As a writer, wouldn’t it seem that observation is an important tool in one’s work? I thought about this yesterday morning as I was walking around the neighborhood, looking at plants I’d never seen before, the rabbits pausing on a dewy lawn for a quick snack, the tree with a seemingly perfect canopy of branches and leaves. But as I wandered and meanered and took in the scent of the day, waved at the other walkers passing on the other side of the street, and took snapshots of cool things, I never once looked up at the sky. When I left the house I returned to quickly grab my forgotten sunglasses because as you walk to the east the sun is bound to get in your eyes eventually and I hadn’t noticed that the glasses hadn’t left their perch at the top of my head for the duration of the walk.
I looked up. The storm clouds above me instantly set my fight or flight response into high drive. It was going to pour any minute and I was probably three quarters of a mile from home. No umbrella. Thrilled about my new morning walking routine, I didn’t stop to look at the weather for the day and left home without a jacket or umbrella as insurance against the rain I would have known about had I checked the weather app. I turned immediately toward home, hoping for the best. This is only a small example of my limited powers of observation as usually, I’m too preoccupied inside myself, like a clueless meditator.
Today the sun is shining but it won’t keep me from checking the weather app for any surprises ahead.