Look at this

My friends know that I notice things. Details. Things around me. 

Once slicing mushrooms for dinner I was hosting for friends, one slice of mushroom was the perfect mushroom cross section. The Platonic mushroom, if you will. I didn’t put it in the dinner. I saved it to show my friends. One friend thought that was so “me”. Apparently she thought it unusual and a defining feature of me – to not just throw the mushrooms into the pot but notice the beauty in something everyday. 

Well how could I miss this today?

Actually let me set the scene first. Driving at 90km early this afternoon on way from a network meeting, on a perfect spring day (except it is meant to be winter. Bloody hell it was warm. Bodes ill for summer. Damn that fossil fuel consumption and global warming. But I digress.) The sky was a rich blue. Not a cloud in the sky. Except this one:

  
It was an arch of fairy floss. A parachute of cotton wool. The ends were pointing down to the ground. 

I had to stop in the emergency stopping lane and take a photo. Glad I did because up ahead where I knew there was parking, the perspective or angle didn’t give the same image. 

It was really huge. And strange. I’ve never seen anything like it. Makes no sense. But then I’m not a meteorologist, let alone a nepholologist. (But I might become a nepholographer.) 

Ah! Worthy of another shot. 

  
[And to my fellow blogging friends, please don’t think me selfish or a taker. I will visit and catch up on my comments on your blogs soon. So if you’re thinking, “I’m not commenting on Lucinda’s cause she hasn’t commented on my blog and it’s her turn,” be kind. I’m coming.]

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15 thoughts on “Look at this

  1. I have the same “impairment.” Regularly I notice a remarkable plant or shadow or smell or texture, then proceed to rave about this singular feature to whoever happens to be around me.
    The people who don’t mind years of these sporadic rants are the people who are still my friends after many years.

  2. What a cool cloud! It’s a great quality! My dad’s similar – he notices things no one else does.

    Take your time catching up, it’s not a race 🙂

  3. My mother showed us the joy in noticing small, wonderful things, and I am passing the same on to my children. It provides such abiding mini-moments of joy to life, doesn’t it?

    • Definitely. But I don’t think of it as providing joy. It does provide joy! But it is just what I do and while I’m in the moment I don’t think about the emotion, I just feel it. Does that make sense? I think I’m in the moment, not looking at it from the outside.

      As it is ist how I am – mindlessly mindful – I show my offspring the same. Maybe I should be like your mother and point out the joy it brings?

      • Well, my mum never explicitly mentioned joy, it just made us happy to have weirdly shaped clouds pointed out to us:)

    • Yes and that’s how I think you experience joy. By not doing something to be happy or chase happiness and joy but just doing things like noticing the small details around us. And joy follows. Clever mum you have.

  4. Lovely photo – and welcome back. I sorta feel slack I didn’t check in on you, but then again, I trusted that all was well.

    I like to think I notice the small things, and camera phone make it SO much easier to take photos to share, if only with other bloggers with the same quirks 🙂

  5. I love how writers do that – noticing the unusual or the beautiful, then combining it into some kind of unique insight (like the quotes from your book post above.)

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