Some people have asked me how my break’s been/what I’ve done this break/how I’ve been. Usually, I just say “good”/”not much”/”just fine.” But if you want to know the exciting things that have really gone on, then keep reading…
There was a really pretty sunset tonight that I got to see while driving to Gurdon, AR. Right outside of city limits some fields (I’m not sure if they’re wheat or soy) open up so you could see the horizon, and a stretch of sky above the far trees was red and golden. Mellow orange streaks, reminiscent of those sherbet ice cream treats (the ones with the Flintstones pictures on them), became mellower as they extended west, blending with purples and weird blues. The black tree skeletons were framed against the brighter (oddly greenish) gold to the east and the duskier west. I couldn’t stop glancing over, scanning from right to left, east to west–until I saw the full moon rising. It was slightly behind me, which meant I had to turn my head quite a ways to see it. It was yellow, as only wintry full moons are, and very large, like one of those old-fashioned half-dollars with President Kennedy on the front. I was torn–which to look at? The sunset or the moon-rise? Or the road?
Really, it was a “typical” sunset, and my efforts at describing it have been outdone by many others before me. I only wanted to try and capture a little of it in words if I could. I wish you could have seen it, whoever’s reading this.
In other words, nothing’s gone on this break that’s sensational, or exciting in the usual sense. Sunsets happen everyday, everywhere–the difference is that I noticed the one tonight. My break might seem really, really boring to you (it’s seemed boring to me at times too), but maybe there’re a lot of things that seem boring but don’t have to be. G.K. Chesterton developed this idea already when he said that “there are no uninteresting things, only uninterested people.” We spend so much time being bored; it’s a shame we can’t be fully where we are in the moment. I guess I’m trying to say, please notice sunsets, and parents, and younger siblings, and boring rainy days when there doesn’t seem to be much around to notice. Chesterton, again: “The world will never starve for want of wonders;” he said, “but only for want of wonder.”
After school starts back, when I think I don’t have time to stop and wonder–remind me, please.
Let’s go be.
Let’s go be amazed.