Homebodies - Slowing down to see the sights

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By Rita Friesen

The Neepawa Banner

It was unusual, but I was up and about at six of the am. Twice! One morning it was to have breakfast with my friend before she headed to the city to catch her flight. And then, the very next morning, it was to start my studies.

Do you know how dark it is at six? The full moon was still casting shadows.

 By seven I was out of the house and heading down the road. The quiet beauty was inspiring. Flickering streetlights and dancing stars, in the distance, clouds caught on the tops of tall trees. As I turned  south, off to my left was the start of the sunrise, while to my right, the moon still graced the sky. As I drove past sloughs and ponds a shimmering mist rose ethereally. I attempted to listen to the radio, but earth’s sounds diminished the beauty and mystery. The silence, save for hum of tires on the new roadway, was enough. As the moon gave way to the strength of the sun the world once again became familiar, but not common. The tone for the day had been set.

 The day entailed sitting in a classroom. The room was a dull taupe, no windows, and the ever present industrial fluorescent lights. The topics covered were important, but I doubt if there was a one of us who would not rather have been outside. Old bones are not accustomed to long sits in theatre seats – six and a half hours of sitting – short lunch and two stretch breaks. But when I closed my eyes the scenes of the drive re-visited me.

  Poetry and prose attempt to capture the essence of nature. Artists strive, putting brush to canvas, to hold the beauty of our earth. It is a gift to really see our world. I often think back to time spent in the Louvre, one of the world’s most famous museums. As I meandered through, stopping frequently to stand in awe at a particular painting, I noticed a youth, cell phone held high, practically galloping through the gallery, snapping photos. Yes, the individual certainly has a record that they were there, but perhaps, just perhaps, the experience could have been more rewarding if time had been spent absorbing the message of one or two pertinent pieces! Remembering that, I tried to simply be, simply see, right where I was. The other thought that entered the quiet was a remembrance of how much Ed enjoyed the outdoors. When we went for walks, often down familiar trails, he noticed and noted the subtle changes – the growth of the clover, the turning of the grasses, the subtle indications of the changing seasons. The wondering that even with only a day between forays, something had shifted. 

 Slow me down Lord, slow enough to see.