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What a Thrill It Is

 The night, with its stars set in the darkness above, silent in the mystery that is space, shines as a messenger of light. The sun, fickle, some days glaring, burning, and some days shedding warmth against the cold, has its purpose. The clouds, hazy and swift at times, like crumpled tissue floating across the sky, and at other times motionless, taking odd shapes, a unicorn, a face, a mountain of snow, offering relief from the summer heat, or billowing and turbulent warning us of threatening weather ahead.

The earth rotates without our notice. Caught up in the tedium of our lives, we take for granted the miracle of our planet. Its landscapes and oceans, its highlands and peaks, its trees and flowers, the green grass, the yellow fields, the clear streams, and rugged paths. Majestic. Stunning. Mesmerizing. Awesome. All of it. Every rock and petal, every clump of earth and blade of grass, every jagged crevice and smooth hill. Astonishing in their place of function. Healing in the glory they bestow.

The community of animals that feed us, protect us, entertain us, befriend us, remain ever loyal to us. The cattle in their grazing. The birds in flight. The fish and sea life that nourish and fuel us. The dogs and cats we claim as pets, as family, that lay at our feet, that purr and snuffle, nestle and comfort, tiptoe and dash, and provide us with laughter and affection and allegiance.

The deep, inscrutable feeling of human love. The touch of another. The pleasure of kissing. The intensity of tenderness. The unexplainable mystique of lovemaking. The crush of heartbreaking tears. The wonder of fidelity, faithfulness, and the keeping of vows. These things make us human. These things keep us human.

Children. Their enormous energy. The innocence that catches our notice, breaks down our hard barriers, fills our hearts with wild feelings of protecting, holding on to, and making sure nothing bad happens. The music in their eyes. Their soft, open faces, that generate something divine, something sacred, something we miss and want.

The long-held bonds of friendship, of having an ally, a coach in our corner, an unfailing confidant, amigo, sister, collaborator of fun, holder of secrets, that one person outside of family that is treasured as family. The person we admire. The friend who has taught us how to be our better self by being there when no one else could be or chose to be. The friend that always understands without judgments or censure, without scolding or lecturing. The friend that just sits with us. Cries with us. Laughs with us. Holds our hand in our weariness and puts an arm in ours when the journey has beaten us down and left us unable to walk on our own.

In the bewildering and yet magnificent experience of living, these are the foundations of our survival. These are the people, the places, the observations, the gifts of our existence that give us the capacity to see everything as though we were seeing it for the first time or the last.

And what a thrill it is.

© 2022 Timothy Moody

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