Be Still and Notice

When my grandson was a toddler, we’d walk at his pace, which meant we often paused to watch a bug crawl across the sidewalk, pick up a stick, or try climbing up on a rock or stump. These days, my walking companion is more often my chihuahua. She’s not interested in climbing, but does notice every bug, worm, or leaf moving across the trail.

My perspective isn’t as low to the ground, but I’m noticing more, too. A stump capped with

dozens of tiny mushrooms, that seems a whole world in miniature. A four-inch tree sapling

growing in the rotting top of a fence post. The color variation among the fallen leaves lying on the trail. One branch of red leaves on a tree of green.

I notice the animals, too. Sometimes their movement alerts me. Other times, they’re still and silent, watching, waiting for me to pass. Deer frequent the trails I walk. I try not to spook them, and my dog, who always alerts to other dogs, doesn’t notice the deer. I did startle the crane, who flew toward me out of the mist one foggy August morning, but it was the huge dark fishing spider that made my heart race. It’s harmless, and pretty in its own way, but any spider with four-inch legs and eight eyes is a little creepy when you just happen upon it.

Lately, I’ve been noticing the clouds more and more. Photographers often speak of the golden hour, some sixty minutes before sunset, when the sunlight softens and the sky turns magical, and clouds glow with reflected light. Sometimes a warm yellow, sometimes a quilted, pillowy blanket tinged pink with the setting sun.

A few nights ago, I stopped at a traffic light and watched as a dark cloud passed in front of a full moon. The cloud’s edges were gilded in gold light.

Good things happen when we slow down and notice. When, as the psalmist said, we “be[come] still and know.”

It’s sometimes hard to see beyond the chaos and busyness of our times, but noticing the glory of nature and the intricacies of creation calms our nervous system, boosts our moods, eases anxiety, and reduces stress. In short, it’s good for our health and our souls.

May we all find the time: “To see a world in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wild flower. Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour.

From “Auguries of Innocence.” William Blake.