Look at That!

"Oh Marilla, how much you miss!'  This line from Anne of Green Gables stayed with me and played over and over in my mind. I know we miss lots and lots. We miss sunrises and sunsets. We see a few and we relish them and then we forget them. We miss the sky.We see the sky when it is gray and we forget when it was blue with fluffy white clouds floating along. We miss the sky so many times because we only notice when it is suiting us.

We miss trees and flowers and beautiful old buildings, and beautiful people, and colors and shapes, and sounds, and rhythms and songs. We haven't got time for wonder and joy. We're too busy. Yes, we are too busy!

With a love for nature and my photography bug, I see many things others might not notice.  I took a photo of a nice bridge with a design in its concrete railings and a W.P.A. plaque attached. I showed the pictures to my family. Where is this bridge my husband asked? When I told him he drove across it everyday to get to work, he was surprised and a little doubtful until he went to work the next morning.

How could he have missed it? He just wasn't expecting to see anything lovely or amazing in the ordinary. That is how we people are.

When we travel we take cameras and our eyes are open watching for sights, wonderful, historical, majestic, breathtaking sights, sights others may see everyday. I wonder if the people in those places might want to see what wonders are in ours.

How many wonders do we walk past in our everyday routines?

I think about the old story-line from some movies and books. The main character looks for happiness all the world over. He comes home at long last to find it was in his own back yard the whole time. Search the world for love, peace, joy, beauty and you may find it was accessible all along right near home.

I have friends who want to live in the country to find peace and contentment. It is peaceful here. I love my farm, but am I wrong to think that a person must first find contentment in his heart before he can then find it in his place, his world, his home, his life?

I have one dear friend who dreams of living on a farm and owning a pink pig. When she told me her vision, I pictured the fat pastel hog with a perky satin ribbon tied on its curly tail and a contented smile on its docile face, while ten little pink piglets nursed at her belly. A sweet dream it is! But is it preventing my friend from seeing something even more wonderful that she has already in her city, in her own neighborhood, in her own  back yard? Ah, it may well be.

"Look at that!" said the old man in a voice whose earnest inflection inspires me. "Look at that!" "Look at that!" If we only see what we saw before; if we only listen for voices and melodies we know; if we rush through our days only glimpsing here and there a wonder; we surely will miss the marvels that are packed into every space and spot in every inch of our world. How sad that would be. How very sad.

So I say , Look at that!

  The mulberry tree is budding!

 A wren is building a nest in the Crape Mrytle bush outside my bedroom window.

 Look at that! The rope swing's shadow.

 Look at that! Black hen lost a feather in the grass.

  Look at that! The apple trees in my orchard are dressed in pink.

Look! The Periwinkle sprouts fresh leaves and purple pinwheel blooms outside my front door.

Meadowlark

By Elece Hollis

Dandelions in the grass

Smiling sweetly as I pass

Nodding heads of yellow fluff

You tell me I don’t smile enough?

Meadowlark perched on the fence

Would you sing for fifty cents?

“I only sing for free,” said he,

“For life is good and sweet to me”.

Iris fronds like swords of green

Purple blossoms in between,

You say I’m walking much too fast?

How many wonders I walk past!

Oak tree towering overhead

Rooted in a lily bed

My vision is too small you think?

I do not know how deep roots sink?

Snow white clouds up in the blue

You tell me what I fear is true

I hurry, scurry, stop too rarely

Only know my world too sparely!

Remind me to come out of self

To take my soul down from the shelf

To find the Lark’s own cause to sing:

Yes, life is good and sweet in spring.