Yesterday, I chased a rare to see, red bellied newt down the stairs to the wetlands below my home. A visiting contractor tried to stop it for me so I could take a photograph, but the newt was too fast for both of us. So I snapped a picture of the whole area in hopes to go “hunting” later.
Computer Wildlife Hunting is one of my favorite things to do. I open the photograph at full resolution and pan around looking for anything which appears slightly different from its surroundings. This is a lot harder than finding Waldo. Nature’s camouflage is amazing. I finally located the Newt in one of the pictures, only because its quick movements made a blur which distinguished it from the leaves around it.
I was now the proud owner of a photograph of a path of leaves with a blur spot in them. In my excitement, I was looking only for the Newt. Meanwhile, I failed to notice a large black snake, not five feet from it. When I opened the photo on my computer, there it was, clear as day. I called the contractor who had been with me to ask him if he had seen the snake. Neither he, nor I, nor the man with him, had noticed the snake during our “Newt pursuit.”
I wonder how many times in life that I miss what God places in front of me because I only see what I’m looking for. Being present to life as it plays out in each moment of my days is difficult for me. Afraid things will turn out like they did yesterday, I worry about tomorrow and I miss today. I’m always planning, thinking of ways to insure myself against catastrophe. I see life through a filter of past experiences which have colored my view of the world around me. In living out what “might happen,” I often lose the ability to experience what actually is happening.
To some, it may seem unusual that I see a “snake sighting” as a gift. I didn’t used to. When I moved into our swamp side home eight years ago, I was afraid of the swamp and terrified that I would run into a snake. Now, after numerous hours spent in these wetlands, I have fallen in love with this land and all of its creatures, even snakes. I respect each living thing and live in awe of the awesome artist who created them all. I meet Him there and sometimes I am calm enough to hear His voice.
Computer Wildlife Hunting is one of my favorite things to do. I open the photograph at full resolution and pan around looking for anything which appears slightly different from its surroundings. This is a lot harder than finding Waldo. Nature’s camouflage is amazing. I finally located the Newt in one of the pictures, only because its quick movements made a blur which distinguished it from the leaves around it.
I was now the proud owner of a photograph of a path of leaves with a blur spot in them. In my excitement, I was looking only for the Newt. Meanwhile, I failed to notice a large black snake, not five feet from it. When I opened the photo on my computer, there it was, clear as day. I called the contractor who had been with me to ask him if he had seen the snake. Neither he, nor I, nor the man with him, had noticed the snake during our “Newt pursuit.”
I wonder how many times in life that I miss what God places in front of me because I only see what I’m looking for. Being present to life as it plays out in each moment of my days is difficult for me. Afraid things will turn out like they did yesterday, I worry about tomorrow and I miss today. I’m always planning, thinking of ways to insure myself against catastrophe. I see life through a filter of past experiences which have colored my view of the world around me. In living out what “might happen,” I often lose the ability to experience what actually is happening.
To some, it may seem unusual that I see a “snake sighting” as a gift. I didn’t used to. When I moved into our swamp side home eight years ago, I was afraid of the swamp and terrified that I would run into a snake. Now, after numerous hours spent in these wetlands, I have fallen in love with this land and all of its creatures, even snakes. I respect each living thing and live in awe of the awesome artist who created them all. I meet Him there and sometimes I am calm enough to hear His voice.
