When I was a feral wolf child in the woods, I spent my days
really looking at things. I stared a
dragonfly in the eyes while it glared back at me. I looked at a crawdad's feet, not just the pinchy big claws, but
all the little claws on the skinny legs too.
I touched the spiny fur of its shell.
I noticed how algae sways with the river current and how water bugs
scamper across the water surface. I
listened to the birds singing and found the softest moss bed in the forest.
Why do we let this world of wonder belong only to
children? Not that kids today have the
requisite infinite boredom to explore the world so minutely. It seems nobody makes moss curl up with a
finger touch anymore.
The other day I was entranced by the vivid blues and purples
of my snowy world. I started feeling
like I "ought to" paint what spread before my eyes. Thinking about what I "should do"
takes away the beauty and just becomes a chore. I decided not to paint the colors and watched the fat snowflakes
fall. It seemed like the absolute best
way to spend my time.
The snow melted and the sun came out. In the brief moment of sunshine between
weather fronts, I walked to the store, a distance just far enough away to be
discouraging, about 1 1/2 miles away. I
saw the word "blue" before taking my walk and decided to pay
attention to blue things in my world: blue sky, blue jay, blue signs, blue
dumpsters, blue trash on the side of the street, blue cars, blue coats. Oddly, there aren't any blue houses. Around here it seems they are only white or
brick, except for one gray house and 2 beiges.
Nonconformists. My house is both
white and brick so I've clearly adapted to my environment.
I got up and refilled my glass from my blue water pitcher
and noticed my next door neighbor's blue house with a blue appliance repair van
in the driveway. Okay, even when I'm
trying to pay attention to my world the obvious can escape me.
I think this is really the point though. How often do we really look around? If we're zipping around in cars or glued to
our hand-held devices, all those blue signs go by without notice. Why would we notice blue dumpsters? How long has it been since they replaced the
industrial green, banged up dumpsters in the business parking lots?
I walked past a woman in a blue nursing home uniform. She didn't look up from her phone. Hey!
Let's interact! Join me in the
real world instead of just the virtual one!
Of course I didn't say that. I
just felt a little lonely for both of us.
Everybody is endlessly talking, but nobody is really saying anything.
I'm going to make an effort to take daily walks and to pay
more attention to the world around me, not because I "should", but
because it makes me happier than vegetating in front of the computer. Who knows what other kinds of things are out
there waiting to be noticed?