AT YOSEMITE

When the full faced moon ducked under the verdant outstretched arms of the white pine, it cast illumination on the waterfall's cascade to the rocks beneath.

As I observed the scene, I looked for others to share the experience, but I was alone. Not a sojourner, certainly not a hiker, just a guy who was blessed to be in a world untouched by humanity. If only for a brief reprieve.

Unconnected thoughts, disjointed, bounced off the walls of my mind. Was I the first, the only to experience that particular scene? Doubtful. How many others had been in the exact spot on another early, early morning when the moon gives up its golden glow and pales, and had not taken note? Had not paused for the sake of reflection?

How many small miracles are out there that we pass up every single day? How many just-the-right moments do we miss? How many opportunities do we pass up in conversations with loved ones because we are preoccupied with other insignificant thoughts? How might our lives have changed had we asked one more question? Or kept our mouths shut one time? Been emboldened? Been passive? Been pro-active? Stayed home that day? Called in sick? Taken the bait?

As the Beach Boys once sang, "God only knows what I'd be..." Thanks for the show. And a huge thanks for allowing me to be One Who Observes.