(This is the latest in my series of reflections, As If For the First Time,
describing the most commonplace of experiences through a fresh lens,
one of innocence and wonder.)
One way to open your eyes is to ask yourself, 'What if I had
never seen this before? What if I knew I would never see it again?' RACHEL CARSON
Imagine you live in a place where the trees either don't shed their leaves or lose them continuously, a few at a time. Or maybe your trees drop all their leaves annually, but the leaves just turn brown.
And let's also say it's a third-world country, you're poor, or you live under a controlling government, so it would never dawn on you that things might be different in
Okay, now someone new arrives on the scene—a visitor, let's say, from northern climes in North America, Europe or Asia. First, they tell you that where they live rain crystallizes and blankets everything in pure, sparkling white. Yeah, right!
Then they say that, before that magic fairy dust comes, the trees all turn from green to resplendent red, gold and orange—even purple. C'mon! Tell me another one.
Can you imagine fall foliage, snow—or any of a thousand other wonders—as if you were seeing it for the first time? If that doesn't cut through your apathy and stoke your sense of joy and wonder, then try seeing it as if it were for the last time. Hm-m-m... See how wonder turns to gratitude?