On most days, I’m a chronic phone checker. Email. Facebook. Texts. Voicemails. Being distant when I’m with my kids–or with anyone, or with no one–goes against everything I believe, yet I, too, get sucked into the technology vortex. I’m usually oblivious while I’m there in the moment until someone says, “Hey!” and I snap out of it. However, today, after I dropped Charlie at summer camp and ventured to a new park with Kip, I decided to set my bag, my phone, my to-go cup of coffee and even my shoes on a bench. Kip and I wandered around the park, playing, chasing, climbing, touching, hanging and marveling.
Grass so green, so soft. Mushrooms growing inside a hollow tree. Bark the color of eggplant. More bark shaped like a peacock feather. A giant iridescent beetle. A guy dancing a little bit while running.
It seems ridiculous to be just now realizing this, but this kind of beauty is always around. I only have to notice it.