Nature Note #183: Slowing Down, Catching Up
It's important to take time to slow down even when you're a naturalist. Life can rev you up so quickly, so efficiently, that even in your daily routine, you might fail to notice a new spiderweb forming on a nearby window or the chewed remains of a walnut left by a squirrel on the front step.
Recently, I have been looking to flowers to help buoy my mood. Alison has left for Nevada and although it's only been a week since I've seen her, the absence she left is palpable. I am alone and feel it as well. In an effort to try and motivate myself and brighten up the apartment where we have lived for the past four months, I bought a bouquet of sunflowers.
I love sunflowers. Alison loves sunflowers too. They did an excellent job for a few days, but now their bulbous yellow crowns are drooping and fruit flies have taken up residence on their hairy stalks. As I write this, one is perched gingerly on the underside of one stalk, vibrating every time my fingers strike a key. I thought back long and hard on what I could write about and came up empty.
With all the upheaval over the past week, I wondered if I had lost the spark and didn't know if I would be able to write again so clearly. Then, today, when I was looking through pictures on my phone, I found them.
Moments captured. Memories captured.
The weekend nearly three weeks ago when our good friends Dave and Theresa had come to visit us before Alison departed on her own adventure. I looked through the photos and found the pictures I took of an enormous grasshopper that Dave had found and held in his hand. It sat quite proudly on the edge of his palm, apparently unaffected by the presence of such a large creature allowing it to sit so prominently.
I flipped through more photos, this time featuring a shining, colorful Japanese beetle and another with a dun and dour assassin bug. After flipping through more photos, I came to the one I remembered most strongly.
It was a group shot, taken from the back of Dave, Theresa, and Alison. They were all crouched on the ground, surrounding the grasshopper, prior to it taking a perch on Dave's hand. In that moment I captured, I saw the curiosity of finding a life so much smaller than our own fascinating. I remembered the wonder of having noticed this smaller creature and wanting to get closer to know more about it.
I am so thankful I witnessed this moment. It has helped to rekindle something I thought I had lost when Alison left. I thought I had lost my spark, my motivation, my want to explore natural places.
I hadn't lost my spark after all, but it wasn't burning either. All the emotions of loneliness, boredom, and apprehension had smothered this little spark and prevented me from using it to its fullest potential. As a result, my writing went on the back burner and I felt lost for a while. Sometimes all you need is a little jolt I guess.
There's something else I wanted to write about, but I'll save that for another post. I'm just glad I got my spark back. It was thanks to good memories, good friends, and a desire to experience those little things in life, especially when a grasshopper hops into your hand and thinks its the king of the world.
Recently, I have been looking to flowers to help buoy my mood. Alison has left for Nevada and although it's only been a week since I've seen her, the absence she left is palpable. I am alone and feel it as well. In an effort to try and motivate myself and brighten up the apartment where we have lived for the past four months, I bought a bouquet of sunflowers.
I love sunflowers. Alison loves sunflowers too. They did an excellent job for a few days, but now their bulbous yellow crowns are drooping and fruit flies have taken up residence on their hairy stalks. As I write this, one is perched gingerly on the underside of one stalk, vibrating every time my fingers strike a key. I thought back long and hard on what I could write about and came up empty.
With all the upheaval over the past week, I wondered if I had lost the spark and didn't know if I would be able to write again so clearly. Then, today, when I was looking through pictures on my phone, I found them.
Moments captured. Memories captured.
The weekend nearly three weeks ago when our good friends Dave and Theresa had come to visit us before Alison departed on her own adventure. I looked through the photos and found the pictures I took of an enormous grasshopper that Dave had found and held in his hand. It sat quite proudly on the edge of his palm, apparently unaffected by the presence of such a large creature allowing it to sit so prominently.
 |
| Dave and the Giant Grasshopper |
 |
| Japanese beetle |
 |
| Assassin Bug |
I am so thankful I witnessed this moment. It has helped to rekindle something I thought I had lost when Alison left. I thought I had lost my spark, my motivation, my want to explore natural places.
I hadn't lost my spark after all, but it wasn't burning either. All the emotions of loneliness, boredom, and apprehension had smothered this little spark and prevented me from using it to its fullest potential. As a result, my writing went on the back burner and I felt lost for a while. Sometimes all you need is a little jolt I guess.
There's something else I wanted to write about, but I'll save that for another post. I'm just glad I got my spark back. It was thanks to good memories, good friends, and a desire to experience those little things in life, especially when a grasshopper hops into your hand and thinks its the king of the world.
Comments
Post a Comment