There is a difference between sitting on a bench and actually exploring the place. From the bench, geese are majestically serene, the breeze is a chilly nuisance, and mud sits there, begging to be included in the story. All of these things are seen as “through a glass darkly.” It isn’t until I actually get onto the field in earnest that these things become more than observations.
It’s forty degrees outside and the wind is gusting quite strongly on occasion, in fact, we’ve had a wind advisory. But, blissfully optimistic, or stupidly ignorant, we’ve gathered together this Saturday for a game of Ultimate Frisbee. A few others had the same idea about getting outside that we did. Six guys in their late teens or early twenties attempt to play soccer. They are trying to show off for their lady friends but with their shorts hanging below their butts and nothing but their thin white boxers to keep out the wind, they are having a hard time of it.
We have come dressed for the occasion in our sweats and gloves. It’s Boise, where one never knows what the weather will be like from one minute to the next. Even though the sky is clear- what few clouds broach our vision, sprint quickly from view- we could get snowed on, hailed on, or rained on at any moment.
From the field, the geese are no longer majestically serene. Stepping in their frozen poo doesn’t help the neon blue complexion of my new Nikes. Getting shoved to the ground makes the mud much less enjoyable. Wide swaths of mud freeze to the black workout pants my mother-in-law bought me for Christmas (pants that are much tighter than anything I would have ever purchased for myself. But she is on a quest to make sure I dress in clothes that fit me.) The wind plays havoc with our throws and catches, arbitrarily dropping a wild pass right into a teammate’s hands or lofting a straight shot just out of reach.
Despite my many layers and two hours of sprinting, I am chilled to the bone. Weary. Mud speckled. And elated. Running, and playing, always make me happy. Did we win? No. My husband’s team won. Naturally. But I got to spend two hours in God’s creation, playing with my friends. My biggest worry was whether or not I could catch the Frisbee or throw it right. I wasn’t worried about my seniors and their poor life choices. I wasn’t worried about my mom’s illness. I wasn’t even worried about getting dirt on my new shoes. I was free. If only I could I spend my life outside, without goose poo and guys with their shorts barely hanging on, I feel life would be much simpler.
...mud sits there, begging to be included in the story.
ReplyDeleteAnd it got its wish :-) You've got some really nice, focused details in here, particularly related to the mud.
I think your sense of humor came out in this entry. :-) I like the little mud detail, as well. Mud doesn't get much attention. It's annoying actually, but it's nature anyway. I also like the way you note how different it is to watch than to actually engage in your place. And, yes, nature has a strange way of making us come alive. I kind of like the details about the geese and the guys, though (who, ironically could both be called gaggles), they're part of nature too!
ReplyDeleteLike Aimee, I want to applaud your humor here. There is definitely personality, and I found myself nodding and rolling my eyes, because boy, don't I know! My favorite line is about the "complexion" of your Nikes. :)
ReplyDeleteI also agree with Aimee about your keen observation that engaging in a place, rather than merely seeing it, can change your perspective on things. I have been actively trying to engage myself in my place, and today, I decided to just sit and observe, because that's just a necessary in knowing a place. Very nice!