If
you are like me, you find yourself wondering. You wonder about those whose cup is
always empty, and those whose cup seems too overflow. You wonder about those
whose dreams are only a nightly occurrence and whose imagination is their only
hope of discovery. You wonder about those who cannot find the joy in anything
and those who seem to find joy in everything. You sit motionless as your breath
finds its way into the morning air, and wonder. If you are like me, you sit and
wonder as the squirrel buries another acorn and ask yourself, “Will he remember
where it is when his stomach growls?” And as the sun climbs higher in the
morning sky, you find your mind trying to absorb the majesty as you wonder
about…it all.
As a
sportsman, I often find myself in places many others dream about. Places where
the wilds engulf the soul. I find myself wading forgotten creeks in unnamed
valleys, and I wonder about those who have gone before me. I wonder about the
Indian or trapper who forged this creek. I have found myself standing and
staring at glaciers fifty miles from another living soul and wondered about
their progress. As the world elsewhere whirls around, this river of ice trudges
along an inch at a time, year after year, century after century. What has it
seen? Where has it been? Was it here when . . . ?
I
have stood, watching and listening, as a creek gurgles along sculpting land and
stone, mesmerized by the tranquility and power of the shallow flow. And I have
observed raging torrents that move boulders and carve canyons. And I have seen
the northern lights as they dance across arctic skies. But I find that I do not
have to travel to distant places or foreign lands to see and wonder. No, there
is plenty of wonder right here where we spend most days. The loyalty of a dog.
The softness of a down pillow, or the “crack” of an egg, all bring wonder to
those who watch and listen. The wonder of creation is all around us. Fledglings
leaving a nest for the first time, the crowing of a rooster, or lowing of cows.
Orange and pink sunsets, cloudless days, full moon glowing in the night sky.
For those who are willing to pause, and gently listen and look, the wonder is
all around us. And for those who do so, we are able to enjoy the radiance of it
all.
Of
the many things I have seen, I marvel most at old abandoned homes that are
being consumed by time. Homes that were everything to someone so long ago, and now
mean nothing to all who stumble by. I have sat on the porches of shacks nestled
in the
hills of Appalachia and cabins along the tree line of the Rockies. I
have sat on logs hewn by hands hundreds of years before and wondered. I
wondered about those he loved enough to spend weeks making this home. And I
wonder about those he buried in unmarked graves. I wondered about his life, his
struggles and his dreams. Did his children scamper along these ridges? Was this
fireplace where they hung their stockings?
Have
you ever wondered? Have you ever sat with friends around a fire and wondered?
Have you stared wide eyed into the flames, and wondered about the meaning of it
all? Have you gazed at the star-filled sky and wondered how many stars there are?
Where are they from, where are they going? Have you wondered as you gaze into
the heavens, who else is looking at these heavenly lights?
I
have, and I bet you have too. I bet you have sat and watched as flames consumed
the wood to bring warmth and wondered about the tree. You have stared at the
stars and wondered, did Columbus see these same stars as he sailed into the
unknown? Did those whose name I carry sit long ago and stare wondering about me,
and what I would become?
Through
all of this I find delight in the wondering. The pondering of this and that
brings a smile to my face as I imagine. Wonder is a wonderful thing. It invites
imagination, complexity and simplicity. It brings with it an awe that the
ordinary is magnificent. It brings with it the certainty that what is, will
always be. That there is order in the chaos. It brings with it the confidence
that what is now will be again, and what has been is now. The ordinary is
marvelous. The ordinary is breathtaking.
When
the rays of the sun change and the shadows shorten as the warmth of the day
begins to overcome the cool night, I am reminded that just like centuries
before, the sun will rise again. A new day will emerge among all of the
heartache and joy. I am reminded that this new day brings with it the hope that
today is new; it is a fresh start, and with it are all the possibilities we
could ever imagine. I am reminded that
each blink is revealing and each breath refreshing. I am reminded as I wonder
that today is full of anticipation; today is full of promises. I am reminded
that today is exactly what I make of it. So I will wonder; I will marvel at all
there is and continue to be captivated by the ordinary.