When I lived in Florida, there was almost always something happening on my nature walks.
There was an alligator who lived near one of my regular routes, and I would go out wondering if he would be there. Sometimes he was. I had a favorite anhinga, too, who was almost always around, sometimes spreading and flapping his wings and making his strange calls. Wading birds searched the shallow water for food, and what seemed like countless bunnies darted back and forth across the trail. Around sunset especially, the whole place seemed to come alive.
I wasn’t just going out for exercise. I wanted to immerse myself in the landscape and, for a little while, in their world.
I lived in Florida for fifteen years, so this wasn’t the novelty of being on vacation. It was home. But somehow there were still things that made me stop and watch.
Kentucky is home now, but the landscape was familiar long before I moved here. I’ve lived the bulk of my life in the Midwest and spent years in woods much like these. Trees and trails, fallen leaves and the four seasons are familiar.
Now that I’m living and walking in Kentucky, I’m wondering if I can learn to see this familiar landscape differently.
So I’ve been wondering what someone who had lived in Florida all their life would see here. What would catch their attention? What might seem remarkable to them simply because it isn’t familiar?
And maybe the bigger question for me is: What happens when the extraordinary becomes ordinary simply because we’ve seen it so many times?
There’s a line from Marcel Proust that I’ve been thinking about. He wrote that the true voyage of discovery would be “not to visit strange lands but to possess other eyes.”
I don’t know whether we can actually train ourselves to do that, but I’d like to try.
For the next few walks, I’m going to pay attention to more than what catches my eye. I’m interested in what draws me in—what makes me curious, inspires me to come back or learn more, or simply delights me in the moment.
And now I’m wondering about other people, too. Not the most spectacular place you’ve traveled or the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen. I’m curious about the ordinary places where you live. Where do you find awe?
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