The same day I noticed all those orange Chinese fringe flower leaves in my backyard and made the orange leaf “flower,” I also realized that the photinia leaves scattered on the ground were quite colorful. It was surprising. It’s spring, after all, and one expects leaves to be green, or maybe red like the new growth on this plant. When the photinia leaves lie haphazardly where they fall, it’s hard to notice their color variants. Gathering some together revealed almost a rainbow. My gratitude goes out to the land artists who made me realize that leaves, even from the same plant, are not all one color.
Seeing—really seeing—is something that comes naturally to some. For others it requires some discipline. We often interact with our surroundings using a kind of visual shorthand, taking in only the most general details as we move through space. Seeing is something I’m working on because really seeing sometimes leads to finding. Discovery gives one quite a marvelous feeling, don’t you think? Over time, I’ve come to understand that discovery is very often a simple matter of tilting your head to the side, brushing off the debris, and revealing what was there all along. To my way of thinking, this is proof that miracles are all around us—and within.