We are home from our 3 week summer vacation to the west—land of mountains and space and infernal temperatures without the infernal humidity.
Also, land of lightning. Not that we don’t see lightning here in Brooklyn, but as we drove from northern Utah to southern Arizona we could see, from the safety of our rental car, lightning storms practically surrounding us. And each strike was cause for oohs and aahs, for a bit of disappointment from those who missed it, for hope that the next would be bigger and brighter than the last.
It never got old.
And neither did hearing the kids wow over it.
It got me thinking, of course, about all the lightning strikes we get in life—the things that we can, at times, anticipate and look forward to and that are fresh and surprising and awesome every single time. They leave you feeling both big and small, both full of life and love—and wanting more.
Things like a baby laughing.
Or seeing your child’s excitement about her birthday.
Watching a little boy stand and stare in awe as a freight train grumbles by.
Or the first snowfall of winter and the sight of the first blossoms of spring.
Witnessing an act of kindness among strangers.
Receiving encouragement from a stranger.
The feeling, at the end of a run, that you did something today.
Watching someone do something hard, and struggle, and succeed.
Creating something—anything—that is beautiful.
What did I miss? What are those moments that fill you with wonder and awe every time they happen?