Wonder

"Look, Mimi, look! A mushroom! And another!" It's a sunny day in May and I am making the most of my COVID connection with my three-year-old grandchild. I can't hug and hold Cedar as I'd love to do, or play close together as we've always done in the past, but we can wear our masks and roam around the backyard at a careful distance from each other. And nowadays, that's joy for me.

Cedar's family has planted a good garden, and Cedar is giving me a tour. Here are the snap peas. They're climbing energetically up the supports, but "don't take one, Mimi. They're not ready yet." We're headed for the strawberries when Cedar notices a shimmering reflection on the house from a bottle of water on the back steps. Wow! We stop to marvel at it.


The strawberries are starting to ripen. I see a big one that's turning red. Is it ready to eat? Cedar says no, not yet. We inspect the potatoes, and Cedar inspects a tiny blue flower in the grass. We crush walnut leaves and smell them, and I admire Cedar's "own green watering can." So much to see in the garden!


And so much to see everywhere when I slow down, bend down, and look at the world through the eyes of this little child. I don't do it often enough, I know, but yesterday I gave it a try. As best I could, I spent the day carrying Cedar in my head, hearing that sweet voice commanding me to "look, Mimi, look!" I did look. And yes: "Wow" was exactly the word that kept coming to my lips.


It started with the rainbows. It's not all that unusual to see them on our bathroom walls and floor when the morning sun through the skylights hits the bevel on the glass shower wall at just the right angle. But it's been awhile since I've seen them. When I got up yesterday, though, I was greeted by three vivid rainbows scattered around the floor. It was glorious. Bathroom rainbows have always been a special treasure for Cedar and me, so it was a great way to start the day.


Carl was busy so I walked alone in the afternoon. I lose my photographer when he's not with me (he's the one with a smartphone), so I wasn't able to take photos of the way the light hit the water when I stopped on the bridge over Tryon Creek. You'll just have to imagine the sunlight and shadows on the trail as I headed up a long hill in the forest. And maybe you wouldn't have seen the two big deer I saw when I rounded the curve down a trail and crossed the stone bridge into a clearing by the playground. They were huge and still, both just lying in the grass with their heads raised and their ears pricked forward. I took a few more steps toward them, staring in surprise, then realized with a start that they were fallen logs. 


I shook my head and looked again. I walk that trail regularly, and those logs had obviously been there for a long time. How had I never seen them? And what made me see them now as deer? I don't know, and I didn't care. I simply enjoyed the moment. Sometimes seeing something that isn't really there is another gift of looking.


I didn't see the baby chickadees with my eyes, but I saw them in my imagination when I stood by the birdhouse in the front garden and listened to them cheeping. Another prize! Another marvel.


And finally, late in the afternoon, a baby nuthatch flew into our open window and perched on the inside ledge for a long rest. The screen kept it from coming into the house, and also obscured the view somewhat when Carl leaned over to take a picture. But here's the little bird that came to call. 




There is cause for wonder all around us. Children know that. They see wondrous things in the grass and in reflections on walls. They see because they really look. I'm here to say that we can do the same.

Until tomorrow, take good care and stay healthy. And take some time to look. I wish you the gift of wonder.


Love,

Nancie/Mom/Mimi/Grandma







Comments

Pat Crane said…
Your blog today about "Wonder" and seeing things through your grandchild's eyes made me think of this quote from Salma Hayek.
Perhaps you are familiar with it already, which wouldn't surprise me! Here it is:

"People often say that 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder,'
and I say that the most liberating thing about beauty is realizing
that YOU are the beholder. This empowers us to find beauty in
places where others have not dared to look, including inside ourselves."

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