What We Carry Home
On a quiet ocean beach in Florida-I set out for my daily sunrise walk. For two foggy, windy and chilly mornings I saw a father and his young daughter huddled against the wind under a half-buried beach umbrella – dressed for the winter chill, waiting for the sun to rise …... together.
I imagine they had planned a sunny, warm weekend away, but awoke to some late winter chill. But still they forged ahead determined to share the sunrise and the endless inward and outward breath of the ocean. Sure, many might have prefer lounging in PJs in front of Saturday morning cartoons with a bowl of Sugar Pops. Others, some time on iPads waiting for the sun to lift a bit higher in the sky – but not this young father. I realized that he was expending a great deal of energy in order to have this special moment with his daughter. What an amazing experience I thought-to share the sun’s arrival to a brand-new day. What an incredible gift he was bestowing – a deeply etched memory – an everlasting ticket into a future of wonder and belonging.
I worry about a time when we disconnect from the very earth from which we came. Our eyes so buried in our devices that we may forget to look up and see the stars. What a gift it is to teach our children about the trees and birds and flowers in our neighborhoods-to learn their names and tend to them with wonder. Can we reenter the world of mud puddles and mudpies and shadow tag -dandelion crowns, buttercups under our chins, catching falling leaves, tree forts- things reliant on nature - that kept us grounded and our fingernails dirty? Remembering by the end of summer how calloused our feet were from never wearing shoes-the very healing of the earth through the bottoms of our young feet. Where are the tire-swings and sandboxes-the rowboats and canoes? The magic of peepers and fireflies that welcome spring– snowmen and sledding- reminding us of the turning of the seasons and our visceral connection to the planet.
Earth holds so much wonder and lately it seems to take quite a bit of effort to stay unplugged and yet connected. I believe that it is when we are guided and encouraged to experience the wonder of earth that we will work to protect her. We tend to protect the things we love. If we teach our children the beauty of a sunrise then they will hold that in their hearts forever. And we too as adults, who grew up engaged in nature, can remember the freedom and joy we found there. If ever you grow weary - life’s greatest elixir is to go outdoors.
On Monday morning’s walk - the weather imperfect, the wind still gusting - I looked for the young father and his daughter and they weren’t there -the weekend was over-back to school most likely. But I can only imagine all that she carried home with her.