The Earf Spinned Again
I have a bit of a sunset addiction. My husband would tell you I have a sunset photo addiction. We went out for a walk at sunset the other night and as I stopped to take my usual six or seven photos, he asked me “how many pictures of sunsets do you really need?”.
Except that they are all different. In fact, the six or seven photos I might take over five minutes or so are all different. I’m fascinated by the fact that we live in a world that gives us a completely different configuration of light and color every single day. We mostly miss it or dismiss it.
When my grandson was four-ish, his family lived in a place where they had a great view of the sunset from their house. He used to squeal “Hey! The earf spinned again!”. I still hear that little voice in my head every time I watch the sun set. The marvel, wonder and delight over something that is so frequent, so available and oh, by the way – free. It catches me every time.
Forgetting to delight in the wonderful things that happen every day catches us all. We get too busy to delight in the little things: the helpfulness of a colleague, the hug from a child, the first sip of coffee in the morning.
We forget that beauty is everywhere and in all sorts of forms: the new idea that emerged from a difficult conversation, the support and forgiveness of others when you’ve made a mess of something, the laughter that erupts among the truly connected team.
They are all miracles of sorts – things that happen with some frequency, but can’t actually be predicted exactly because they never happen the same way twice.
One thing I’ve noticed about my sunset picture taking habit is that the photos never really do them justice. Even the most gorgeous of my pictures is never quite the same as the awe of being present in the actual moment that the sunset is unfolding. But I’m glad I take the pictures. It seems important to notice that the earf spinned again.
What beautiful thing do you want to pay more attention to in your life?
Just some food for thought.