As a kid, I didn’t much like playing outside. I was more of a ballerina, doll house, reading kind of girl. Nature wasn’t for me. But there was one thing I liked to do.
I liked to lay in the thick grass and look up at the clouds.
Lately I’ve thought a lot about this. I find myself looking up almost every time I’m outside. Curiosity draws my eye up to see what I can find in the sky.
Actually, I think I’m quite obsessed with looking up.
Is there a cloud that looks like a dog? Or maybe the state of Maine?
Are the clouds cumulus or cirrus or stratus? Is there bright blue sky right next to a mean storm cloud?
Could the sun be any prettier or the moon be any brighter?
Every morning when I wake up and go outside, the first thing I do is look up. It’s as if I’m looking for hope for a good day or a sign that all is well. Sometimes I look for a sign of my son, or those signs that others have told me about that reminds them of their loved one who is gone too soon.
When I’m at work, out on the nursery, I look around to find streams of light coming through the trees or a cloud that creates a huge shadow over the greenhouses. Being outside when the sun comes over the tippy tops of the pine trees gives me great joy.
I look up for answers or questions or for nothing at all.
I hope that you can learn to do that, too.