Back Window
This is a picture of what is out my back door now. Not at all like the view out my kitchen window back almost thirty years ago as I glance out my kitchen window. My son is not just riding across a very sloppy wet pasture. No, the quarter horse he's on is flying across the scenery. The frost is just barely gone out of the ground, hence the water is draining but...
There he is, no saddle, no bridle, Son is guiding only with two bamboo sticks and voice commands.
We've just finished our morning homeschool exercises, the teacher who comes monthly as required by law has arrived, someone else is visiting Old Fuzzy for a farm financial update, and my Adorable Cousin is visiting because she is, and I've invited everyone for lunch.
I look out the front kitchen window to see Son on horse. "Tell that boy to get off that horse," I say to Old Fuzzy.
"Why? He looks like he's doing fine," Adorable says.
"If he hits that electric fence out there that horse is going to go bonkers."
"You need to stop looking out that window..." Cousin says. She comes from a family of ten kids, six of which are boys, and some of the girls are fearless as well.
That was thirty years ago, and yes, we did survive. Son and horse did not hit the fence, and I still like to watch out my window—front or back doesn't make a difference. But looking is not the same as seeing.
I know others have the same problem as me. When I'm looking for something and don't see it because I don't see what I'm looking at.
What are you looking for? Or what are you looking at? Most of us are always looking, but we only see what catches our attention.
Someone has said, 'It's a wise person who can hear what a person doesn't say'. That goes along with seeing the things you should see as opposed to the things that are a flash in the view.
And just for fun, because it's one of my favorite CCR songs: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aae_RHRptRg
