HomeNature JournalTiny Things

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Friday night we went to our neighbors’ house for a late night game of Mexican Train, complete with beer and laughter. We could not remember for certain if it had been a year or two since our last Mexican Train game, when Jason and I had walked the half mile to their house in the midst of a thick snowfall. Regardless, it was a delightful evening.

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On Saturday the weather was exceptionally warm and I went down to the river with my macro lens. I’m amazed at how a different lens changes my experience of the landscape. I see things I’ve never seen before, every time.

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Later, on Sunday, I was working on this website when I stumbled across this very old blog entry, from 2006—a comical account of a shopping trip with my then six- and four-year-olds. I read it aloud to my daughter and we laughed. By the end of the tale her memory clicks into place. I remember that! she gasped. There’s something about the power of words. Of writing things down. A sleeping memory was nudged, yawned, and came to life again.

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Later I went back through my journals, specifically in my Moleskine diary from last year. I have lots of journals, some are just for processing, figuring things out, but I also started keeping an account of each day about a year and a half ago, much like I did when I first started this blog. I found the entry from our first game of Mexican Train. January 22, 2016. Just a little over a year ago. Fourteen inches of snow. 2017-02-11-06.25

All these tiny things sleep inside us. Memories, yes, but other things, too. Tiny little things that might, should we strike the right bell, rise from their slumber and greet us with a knowing resonance. Tiny little things that, when viewed with the right lens, become larger than life, achingly beautiful, a touchstone to our deepest selves.

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