The Eyes Have It
Every face bears unique, amazing features. Mine flaunts two near-sighted, brown eyes which, among many things, I use to read, ride a bicycle, light candles, and apply mascara. I have sometimes thought about whether I would rather lose my eyesight or hearing if I ever had to do without one of these senses.
After barely any thought, I voted to keep my eyesight. Here is why:
People watching. One of my favorite pastimes…
From my spot on the bank, I watched a fishing boat return to its parking spot leaving ripples in its wake. A trim, middle-aged woman laughed at her partner as she gracefully climbed out and walked off the dock like a model parading a runway. Her stride reeked with poise and confidence, and in a moment of envy, I could not help but wonder if standing next to her, I would spot cellulite and crow’s feet revealing that she was not the natural beauty I presumed.
Waiting in line at self-checkout, I noticed a young man in a business suit shuffling through bouquets in the nearby floral department. His body language screamed “Help!” but his pride kept his mouth shut, even as he glanced nervously at his watch and the floral assistant. I grinned harmlessly, trying to surmise the occasion for his impending purchase, and then, taking my place at the register, silently asked him, “What did you do this time?”
Nature watching. Let it take its course…
During Hurricane Matthew in 2016, I was voluntarily stranded inside the hospital where I worked. Before lockdown, I stood outside the covered hospital entrance to witness the fierce, heavy waters pouring from the heavens. I did not need to hear the pounding rain on the pavement or rooftop to understand my powerlessness.
Sometimes in the morning, I wake to count close to seventy purple flowers on the Mexican Petunia bush planted in the flower bed outside. When they sound their trumpet-like blossoms, yellow butterflies appear in pairs battling over who gets to suck the sweet nectar from its blooms. Hummingbirds visit early, too, knowing that by late afternoon, every single petal will have fallen on the lawn, making room on the bush for brand-new ones the next day.
Creature watching. Not always the comfort kind…
My son’s Belgian Malinois possesses a savage, aggressive bark to warn strangers to stay away from his people. Yet underneath all his ferocity lies a gentle, loyal canine who loves to exercise and play. When I visit, I laugh when I catch him sleeping on his back with his bent legs resting in the air belying his strong, protective nature.
Alligators abound in the waterways of the South where I live and while dangerous to adopt as pets, I find it fascinating to observe them from a cautious distance. Fortunately, watching anole lizards darting about the patio, pretending they own the place, and I am the intruder, is safe entertainment. Their curious antics amuse me and I’ve no problem sharing the sun with these mini reptiles.
Me watching. Mirror be damned…
Though my shoe size has not changed since ninth grade, most of my physical being has morphed into someone new between then and now. Yet, when I catch my reflection, I still see my true self — the new bride in her twenties, the proud college graduate in her forties, and now the beaming grandmother in her sixties. My visual acuity may worsen with age, but that does not mean I will not see things with clarity.
I will forever treasure, if only by memory…
An elderly couple holding hands,
A daddy bending to scoop up his running toddler,
A tired teenager propping her head on her mother’s shoulder,
Kids jumping on trampolines,
Birds flying in V formation,
Kittens cleaning themselves,
The American flag waving,
Lights shining on a Christmas tree,
A life-size crucifix hanging behind an altar,
Fluffy clouds, tangerine sunsets, and full moons.