GOOD TIMES
Reflections
Paul K andarian
The year 2020 is in the rearview, thankfully – one of America’s and the world’s worst. Happy are many of us here in the United States, like around 80 million of us, who at the end of 2020 felt a giant weight lift off our hearts and souls as we look forward to 2021 and four years of sane, capable leadership.
And as humans are wont to do, it’s a time for reflection. Inward of course, but often triggered by what’s outward. As we age, especially in the US with our sadly and often tragically image-driven media telling us what so-called perfection looks like, we often don’t like what we see reflected in the mirror. But in nature’s mirror – a placid body of water being the best example – we see the very old reflected, things there for countless numbers of years, the sky, the sun, the trees, the landscapes on shore. And we humans
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marvel in the beauty of those reflections. I hike quite often, all times of year in temperatures hot and cold, and am fascinated by mirror images, the source of them and the recipients, the sun resolute and implacable above, dancing like a living portrait on the water below. A bright evergreen tree branch dangling over the water seemingly staring down curiously at its darker self beneath. Clouds one shape above, other shapes below depending on wind and current. The water itself a changing canvas for nature’s solar brush, ever evolving,
S ou th C oast P r ime T imes
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shifting colors and shapes, all of it open to the beholder’s interpretation, evoking moods of whimsy and joy and inspiration. Some who love to walk do so with the intensity of mission, eager to get steps in, barreling down a path, concrete or earthen, with numbers in mind, steps, miles, time. When I walk the woods, it’s almost as if nature herself puts her hands on my shoulders to hold me back to slow me down and take long, loving, lingering looks around. Weird thing about measuring steps and walking. Walking is
now a specific form of exercise. There are walking clubs, walking apps, walking shoes, walking pants, walking gloves, walking hats. People walk with a look of fierce determination, as if getting somewhere fast is the goal, not the journey. Walking became “a thing.” Well, I’m old so I remember when walking’s thing was just “transportation.” So I’m not a fast walker, by design, taking time, slowing down, smelling the earth, watching the trees bend in the breeze, the critters large and small that call the woods I visit their home. I think that’s a great reward for our sense of smell, pitiful as it is to the creatures who need theirs to survive, but rewarding nonetheless. I love sitting in nature hearing a slow roar build in the distance, the wind, as it grows louder as it nears, cutting
