My Gifts

Some people just will never understand. Perhaps I never will fully understand, either. After all, why do I stay up all night writing poetry? Why don't I go to bed like a sensible person? Why do I spend hours crawling around on my stomach and twisting into crazy contortions to get 'that perfect picture'? Why do I feel utterly, inexplicably happy when I see the first spring flower or a brilliant sunset? Contrary to what I sometimes joke about, these oddities of mine will never make me rich and famous. Who ever heard of a rich writer or photographer? I don't think watching the sunset is a known remedy for a slim bank account, either. Material things I shall not gain, but really, I'm quite alright with that. I think that my life will be the richer for doing all these things that some people just don't understand.

I'll be happier, too. Yes, sweating over a tough chapter in a novel is actually relaxing to me. Let's not forget about the excitement, either. In my stories I create characters that are almost as real to me as any real person in my life. I fall utterly in love with the new member of my literary family, and then I release him or her into the precarious world of fantasy. They must sink or swim, slay or be slain, as I write frantically. Even when I have decreed their death, I still will them to live on.

Photography always has an element of excitement in it, too. Somehow, I never really notice the details of a thing until I'm looking at it through a camera lens. Suddenly, the brilliant green of a grass stem or the sparkle in the eyes of a laughing baby spring out at me. Quickly, I snap the picture, hoping that I've caught the moment before it passes. Then there is the suspense of downloading and editing the pictures. Did the baby blink? Was there good enough lighting? Did the breeze shake the grass as I took that picture?

I can see things, and sometimes I take the time to stop and really see them. When I pause an extra fifty seconds to admire the dewdrops on a spider web, or turn aside to catch 'that one view', I always feel peaceful. I am closest to God when I am admiring His creation, and close to God there is peace. What of the people who want me to hurry along, the people who can't see? I suppose there are other things they appreciate that I do not, but they miss so much! I never, never want to become so busy, so wrapped up in myself, that I forget to stop, look, listen, and feel.

These are but three of my gifts. Perhaps there are more that I have not yet discovered. Sad to say, there are probably a few gifts that I've lost. But for now, my literary itch has been satisfied. Maybe I will re-open this topic later. Right now, the next order of business in my life is: sleep.