Just look up once in a while.....

I was on my way into Costco the other day, head swimming with the list I had carefully left on my dining room table, thoroughly involved with the tasks ahead, when I was turned around by a mother and daughter walking in near me, both intent on their side of a heated argument. The girl couldn't have been more than nine or ten, but her Mom was reaming her out for something or other, threatening to leave her in the car (which she didn't) or take her home immediately (which she didn't). All she succeeded in doing was making the kid completely miserable.

This in itself was a shame, but the bigger shame was that the whole time the mother was screaming and the girl was cowering, if they had just looked up they would have seen one of the most bright and widest rainbows I have ever witnessed. From the parking lot you could see a huge expanse of open sky, and a fast downpour had just spent itself, so the colors were brilliant. An elder gent who was also nearby was looking at me, so I directed him to what I was watching. He, too, was awe-struck by the size of the arch and intensity of the hues.

I have had other experiences where I have looked at an incredible sunset, or a wild cloud formation, and had to gently grab the attention of others and show them the beauty they would otherwise have missed. They have all been appreciative. Nobody has ever yelled at me for pointing out an amazing sky. Yet, they would not have taken the moment to look up without prompting.

I was teaching a course one night, the last time we had a comet (was it Halle-Bop?) in the skies over the northeast. It was winter, so it was dark early, and the comet was easily seen, tail and all. I stopped in the parking lot and had a good, long stare before I went inside to share the news with my classroom. I was bubbling over with excitement, raving about the incredibly clear view, and not a single person in the class knew what I was talking about. Being the pushy broad that I am, I led them all outside, showed them the comet, and gave them some background on this particular sky phenomenon. They loved it.

Not a single one took the time to look up on their own.

One of my fondest memories with my kids and some of their friends was a meet-up at 3 a.m. at my house, to all pile into my van and travel to a nearby farm field, spread some blankets, and, huddled together for warmth, watch a spectacular shower of meteorites. There were only six or seven of us, but we were giddy with excitement, seeing at least a shooting star a minute, bright flashes in an otherwise black sky.

I am not certain when I became fully addicted to the sky. It may have been when I witnessed the aurora borealis, once in upstate New York, where it is a rare sight. I was about ten, and it became one of those "flashbulb" memories, staying with me in great detail. It may have been during my first airplane flight, when we got above the clouds and could watch all of the great cumulus towers forming beneath us. Actually, the fact that I knew they were cumulus clouds tells me it was before that.

I have recently become even more enamoured with atmospheric phenomena (sorry if you have to get out the dictionary), as my eyesight has gone through some substantial changes. In late 1999, my eye doctor discovered that I was developing very fast moving cataracts. Within a very few months after their discovery I had gone very nearly blind in my left eye, and the right one was close behind. I had them both operated on in 2000, with amazing results.

Since about third grade, I had to wear what most fondly refer to as "Coke bottle lenses" in my newly acquired eyeglasses. I was terribly nearsighted, and even with the glasses could not get my eyesight up to 20/20. Without the glasses I could see little beyond the tip of my nose.

When the cataracts started to develop, I just thought age was getting in the way of my vision, until I had the surgery on the first eye. The most frightening part of that surgery was then realizing how awful the sight was in the other eye, the one I had been depending on! You could stand in front of me and I literally could not make out the features in your face.

For those of you who are not familiar with the miracle that is modern cataract surgery, what the surgeon does is switch your eye's natural lens, which is hardening and clouding over, with a paper-thin, flexible replacement lens. You get your choice in lenses - you can see close-up, or far away. Since I had seen nothing but close-up for most of my life, I chose the distance lenses. All I can say is "WOW!!!"

My vision is now 20/20 in my left eye and 20/10 in the right one. For the first time in my life I can see all of the crispy edges on things like cloud formations. I can see what looks like a telescopic version of the full moon: all of the craters and "man" features. So I have to wear reading glasses - so what!!!

I guess this has something to do with my insistence that others take a minute and look at the scenes the sky has to offer. I know we are constantly told to stop and smell the roses, to take time to find the sea shells in the sandy beach, and wade into the cold, salty ocean. We are not to let the moss grow beneath our feet, to watch our step, to take the road less traveled. All I ask is that in the middle of all of that ground-based activity, we take a minute or two to look up. The beauty is overwhelming, the serenity and peace sorely needed.

A good sunset can melt away the most heated of arguments.