The sunlight came slanting through the trees to strike the leaves on a small shrubby plant. From a distance, it almost looked as if someone had flicked on the switch to power a string of tiny lights. They were illuminated just long enough to draw my attention to the bush before the sun hid itself behind some passing clouds.
I was curious if I could capture an image when (and if) the sun revealed itself a second time. So, I approached the plant and tried my hand at focusing, framing and taking pictures - hopefully to be ready for a random ray of solar power.
That magical moment didn’t happen while I held the camera, but I was able to observe another sort of magic. A new world revealed itself to me as I brought the camera lens and my own focus of observation closer. The water droplets were as interesting unlit as they were when the sun pushed itself into each one, refracting and reflecting in a way that called for my interest.
I let myself slow down and take the time to really look and I started to realize that each droplet was just a little bit different.
One droplet had become oblong and was showing how gravity was working hard to pull it away from its home leaf. Another was a simple half-globe, with plenty of potential to grow larger if the smaller droplets on top of the leaf decided to slide down to join it a group effort to escape.
Some of the droplets hung from leaves, flowers or stems while others sat on top, preferring to look up rather than down. There was diversity in size, shape and composition on each individual leaf. Proximity didn't seem to dictate perfect uniformity.
Still, each droplet had much in common with the others. They were clearly related - with some basic understandings about how life is. Yet, each also appeared to be unique in some way.
Individuals all.
And with that individuality, each of them provided a window to a world and community that is beautiful.
The ability to look and ponder are wonderful gifts. Thanks, Rob.