Through the looking glass

Through the looking glass

I was gifted a pair of binoculars by my wife for my last birthday. It was one of those gifts that is partly serious and partly a joke. The serious aspect behind them is my fondness for star and bird gazing. Having binoculars for one with such interests only makes good sense. On the joke side of the equation, it is well known that I have a compulsion to spy on our neighbors^[1] keep my finger on the pulse of the neighborhood. It’s good practice to know the comings and goings of the people you live around to better understand when something is off and may require attention. Indeed, with two dogs here with us, we both worry about house fires when we aren’t around. We would far rather have someone take notice (and action!) if they see smoke and come over to bust open the sliding door to let the wee beasties out. So I likewise pay attention in case such need arises elsewhere on the street.

In any case, just the having these field glasses feels like so much more of the world is accessible to me now. Perhaps that’s the little boy in me expressing himself. But I imagine taking them along for car rides, stopping by the side of the road to sight critters off in the distance or to gaze up at the moon when sky is clear to appreciate in some small way the scope of the universe around me. It is almost as if the act of bringing real things from afar into focus helps stimulate my own creativity for further possibility.

Sure they may just be binoculars, but they feel like so much more to me. Not least of which is another connection to Mom.