As I am sure everyone is aware, Connecticut got a bit of snow recently. Annabeth and I have been up since dawn digging us out. We saw the sun rise that way, lighting up snowy fields and rooftops with a golden-pink glow. It was beautiful in a way that cannot be captured with a camera, in way that I am hesitant to capture with a turn of phrase. For a moment, everything we saw seemed to glow as though we were being transported to some mystical land. The moment passed, of course, and now I as I sit and type my shoulders are downright sore from wielding shovels and sleds, but for a little while I could forget the conflicts and rage of our world.
That’s something that I feel like we are missing in this day and age– the ability to unplug, sit back, and get lost in a moment of natural beauty. Unplugging isn’t not a lost art yet, is it? We spend so much time bombarded by information from all sides– on our phones, on our computers, on TV– but surely we haven’t forgotten how to turn all of those things off and take a breath.
Maybe we could schedule it – Friday at six in the morning or Saturday at half past noon, we will stop and look and take in everything that’s around us – but that misses the point in a sense. One can’t plan things like this, but one has to take and accept them as they come.
For now, I suppose I have to plug back in. I have all the world on my phone, from newspapers to the Metro Taxi app, after all, and it wouldn’t do to fall behind on what is happening beyond the snow-covered roofs.
Until next time,