Most weekday afternoons find me on a half-hour walk along a stream at Sharon Woods.
During Friday’s walk a flash of red caught my eye on the opposite hillside, so bright it might have been a cardinal. I stopped to soak in the moment and saw it was a brown falling leaf and a trick of the light.
I thought about how things might have gone if my children were present: “Why did you stop?”, “What do you see?”, “Where?”, “Show me”.
I would point 200 feet to where the leaf silently settled to the ground:
“Do you see that leaf?”
I actually laughed out loud as I realized how ridiculous the attempt would be.
There, against a background of a million different fallen leaves, the one that caught my attention was nondescript. It’s brief path to the ground ended before I raised my arm to point. I could never bring their attention to what so engrossed me.
Each of us have to find our own experiences of wonder.