"Go as far as you can see; when you get there you'll be able to see farther." ~ Thomas Carlyle
Thirty metres below the raven, krawking from the wind-battered tips of lofty lodgepole pine, lies a world in miniature. Once the snow disappears, to the distracted mind focused at eye-level, the forest floor is a mottled shag of rusty needles and diminutive greenery. A red squirrel might chatter a warning from a scruffy branch as you pass beneath, while an invisible Northern flicker commands attention with his most fetching love song in the distance. Listen!
Sun has warmed the sap flowing up through the conifers and thawed the earth below, releasing the tender scents of spring. It is impossible to resist the impulse to close your eyes and fill your body with the redolence of buds swelling into new life and the pungent perfume of last summer’s foliage, ever so slowly transforming into nourishing loam.
Sink now onto a mound of feathery evergreen moss, just beginning to sprout tendrils of new growth and from your new vantage point, look around.
My once 20-20 vision, now aided by reading and magnifying glasses, is challenged to take in the unfolding of spring’s miniature world of wonder. Each gem that I find, though, feels like a monumental discovery and I want to show the world. Without a macro lens, my skills are also challenged in capturing these constantly changing gems to share. But I implore the reader to look down; to get down; to see the abundance, the rich variety of minute miracles underfoot by the path. Take a child in hand and together be the explorers; be the discoverers. Richness is all around. It is good for the soul.