If closely examined, the most seemingly insignificant item can take on importance. In the hands of a child, an empty box may become a spaceship, submarine, clubhouse, or some other construct of a boundless imagination. Watching a red-brown autumn leaf release its grip from the branch of a tree and float to the ground, may give rise to a pang of regret for a lost loved one. The glowing flames of a roaring winter fire burning in the hearth may make one long for the forgotten rays of a warm summer sun. There is a special magic in the mundane, and I believe we take it for granted.
In a world that appears to place a precedent on speed, we often find ourselves engulfed in a whirlwind of activity: education is attained, work is accomplished, and relationships are secured. Life charges ahead and the diminutive objects are often unnoticed. Carelessly, we see without observing; we feel without experiencing; we whiff without smelling; we taste without savoring, and never to stop to ponder the missed opportunity.
There is joy in the little things: the scent of freshly baked bread, the feel of crisp bed linens against your skin, the beauty of the spring bud pushing through the soil, and the sound of crickets chirping a succinct melody. Enticed by the lure of entertainment, ambition, or security, undemanding stimulation is often unnoticed. One truth of these intricacies refuses to be belied. Like us, they are fragile—limited by their mortality. While we still have time, I believe it is our duty to notice.
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