Taking The Time To Truly See

It was another gorgeous day today, and I celebrated it as I usually
do- by taking the dog, and my almost one-year-old daughter, hiking in
the mountains.

Before returning home, I chose to rest for a while. Putting my daughter
down on the grass beside me, I picked up a favourite book, and started
to read. At least I thought I was reading. I actually went over the
same paragraph about five times, and even now a couple of hours later,
I couldn't tell you what it said.

Instead my mind was eating away at other things- whether there was
enough money in the bank to pay the bills, if the dog was allowed off
the lead here, if I would ever have enough money to live in one of
these secluded houses on the side of the mountain (instead of having to
drive sixty miles every day) and whether the couple in that van over
there were having sex (oops).

Glancing at my daughter, I noticed she was completely absorbed in a
blade of grass. She was turning it over and over in her tiny fingers,
studying its colour, texture, and taste. She'd put it in her mouth,
frown at the way it felt, spit it out, and hold it up to me with her
'look mum, see what I found, isn't it great?!' noise.

I smiled back at her, love pouring from my body, so much so that it
hurt. I mused on what it would be like to find something, so
fascinating. And realized, what reason did I have to NOT find it
fascinating? When was the last time I had actually taken time out to
study anything that closely? (Except the baby. Maybe re-runs of Brad
Pitt in THAT scene of 'Thelma and Louise'.)

This struck me as odd though (o.k people, we're back to the story now,
quit wondering 'what scene?' will you!). It struck me as odd, that I
had never studied anything that closely, at least not for a long while.
I mean, I learn something new in my job every day, what could possibly
be so fascinating in a blade of grass?

I plucked another piece (not stealing the baby's please note, aren't I
a good mummy?). It was dry, and crumbled in my hands as I rolled it
between my fingers. It smelled sweet, not 'chocolate sweet' (otherwise
it would have been out of my hand, and into my stomach in two seconds)
but rather like the horses, back at home. I placed it between my teeth
(yes, I know I'm now eating grass but please bear with me), tongue
scratching on the tip of it. It tasted... well actually it tasted like
a banana, having wolfed down a banana just a few minutes ago- but
barely tasting it then.

As I chewed on this blade of grass (please stop laughing),
concentrating on its taste and texture, something happened. I noticed
how quiet it was up there. The only sounds being the wind whispering
past my ears, rustling the grass. And the dog disappearing into the far
off distance (oh well). It was heaven. An overwhelming, long missed,
and much needed peace swept through me.

Looking up I noticed three bald eagles, circling above us. Magnificent
creatures. Riding effortlessly on the breeze. Free, powerful, wanton,
amazing.

And now, across on the mountain opposite us, a herd of buffalo were
stampeding down the slopes. Running as one, caught in a single
moment.

It was almost like God was sending me gifts. I had taken time out of my
supposedly hectic life, to appreciate the miraculous beauty of what
'He' had made. And here I was being rewarded for these simple
pleasures.

I felt a pure delight. I was connected to this mountain beneath me. The
grass and trees, breathing as I. The endless sky above.

All that I had been so caught up in before, now seemed so trivial. (I
mean, who cares if they are having sex?) To think they had tricked me
from this wonder I was surrounded by.

I went on my way with a new vigour, new priorities, a new purpose.
Almost reaching the car (mine!), I stumbled across an antler, newly
shed, (or was it? Had I just not been aware of it before?), from quite
a large buck it seemed. I picked it up (no, I didn't eat it in case you
were wondering). A present for my husband. A momento for me, of the day
I took the time to truly see...

Now, I suppose I had better find the dog.