I carpooled to the coast today for a tennis tournament in Rockport, where I took this single photo. It doesn’t begin to illustrate the fairytale world we drove through for an hour and a half. Dazzling field grasses and treescapes encased in ice glittered in brilliant sunlight, like a scene from Frozen, a Tim Burton landscape, Narnia in the grip of the White Witch. I wanted to show everyone.
My family, I have come to realize, habitually implores others to share our marvelous moments. “Come out! You’ve got to see this!” My cousin used to mimic me, by crying, “Look at the moon!” “Look at that bird!” When Anna was starting to walk and talk, the constant refrain was: “Mommy, come see! Look what I have! Look what I did!” It wasn’t until a friend came over with her toddler, who sat playing for half an hour without ever saying a word, that I realized this was not an everybody-does-it thing.
Jonathan is the same, “Listen to this paragraph! Read this cartoon!”
We are the come-and-see family.
Apparently, many people aren’t interested in coming or seeing. They’d rather discover their own cool things, and enjoy them on their own.
But aren’t there multitudes of come-and-see people? Why do we take photographs so prolifically, if not to say, “Look! Look!” (Share my excitement!)
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 167: 222 words, TOTAL = 27,370; 32,630 remaining
Robin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs.