It’s easy to forget how vibrant and alive the world is when you spend your days behind a desk.
I live on the top floor of an apartment building. Though it’s only three stories high we still get a really nice view from up here, a view over a small dog park with an even smaller grouping of trees that you could call a forest if you tried really hard. There’s always something to see down there. When the excited barks of a thousand playful dogs aren’t echoing off our windows, the field makes for a nice strutting area for birds. And even when they’re off somewhere else, there’s still plenty of cool-looking trees trying to get into the spotlight.
I live near a “national landscape” consisting of forest, heath and sandy areas. Though the weather isn’t consistently optimal, it’s always rewarding to go there and see the sights. Walk or bike for a while, pick a nice hill, then just sit down and watch for a bit. Birds, bees, small lizards if you’re lucky. But also trees, shrubs, flowers, moss. All living, breathing, making the most of each other for mutual benefit. And there I come, rolling by, benefiting from their existence simply by observing.
I live with hay fever. Itchy eyes, runny nose, record-breaking sneezes. It may not be fun, but it is a constant reminder that wherever I go, life is happening around me. It’s happening through stuff you normally don’t even see, just floating in the air minding its own business. Attempting to do what it was sent forth to do, but not actually caring whether it succeeds. Something as small and seemingly insignificant as pollen plays a huge role in the ecosystem, in the flow of nature. The same for insects, birds, dogs. You. Us. All swimming in the same sea.
It’s nice to take a moment and notice the specialness of the accepted normal sometimes.