First sight:

Returning from the Galapagos

“We all walk around within the numbness of our habits and routines so often that we take the marvels of ordinary life for granted. It is first sight that opens the freshness of each moment, unencumbered by any of our habits and routines. . . . First seeing is an ever present threshold to the majesty of what is.” – Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening

To most, we were invisible, 
which was its own delight. 
Blue-footed boobies let us close, 
even the nesting ones, 
without a twitch or a try at flight. 
Multicolored crabs made feathery trails 
inches from our toes 
in sand like wet clay at our feet. 
And giant tortoises alive during the Civil War 
went on munching grass, 
their heads lowered in the heat.

We were the startled ones.  

Others did take note
and wanted to play.
Young sea lions whipped through waves,
turning upside down to right-side up 
faster than we could make way. 
A pod of dolphins joined pace with the boat 
taking turns at the bow, 
choosing, miraculously, to stay. 

I return, tired but awake,
finding first sight
in the sleepy animal of my daughter, 
the whiskers of the cat,
and the call of the night.

This basement has never felt wild before. 

I’m experimenting with cadence for this newsletter over the coming months. I’ll be back in two weeks, on Friday, February 28.