Appointment Viewing
“Nature is painting for us, day after day, pictures of infinite beauty, if only we have the eyes to see them.”
John Ruskin
I had the good fortune of growing up near the shores of Lake Erie in Western New York. While I haven’t lived there in almost 50 years, the lake calls me home every summer, inviting me to take a break and spend time with family members who still live in the area.
Once I’m there, the lake always works its magic. I automatically reset the rhythm of my days to the cadence of nature and the Earth’s rotation. It’s a slower pace, more fully aligned with sun, water, wind, and sky.
And what I look forward to most about these vacations is watching the sun set over the lake at the close of each day. Each sunset is unique. The sun typically takes center stage, while the clouds and lake compete for co-starring roles.
Sunsets can be fiery and fierce; or they may be tranquil, subdued, understated.
Sometimes the lake is as smooth as shimmering satin; or it might mirror the sky with a peaceful, blue luminosity.
And though some sunsets dazzle, producing a frenzy of flashing specks of sunlight on water, others are content with simplicity — a red sun meeting a blue lake at the horizon.
These days, we have complete control over most of the forms of entertainment we enjoy. Technology allows us to stream movies and watch our favorite television shows whenever we want.
But there’s no DVR-ing a sunset. This is “appointment viewing” and, believe it or not, there are never any re-runs. Each evening, a one-of-a-kind show goes on, with or without us.
On the first day of my lake-cation this summer, I’d planned to be comfortably settled in my weathered Adirondack chair at the cliff’s edge, a glass of wine at my side, in plenty of time for the sunset. In fact, my early-morning flight was scheduled to arrive in Buffalo at 10:30 a.m. Knowing how eager I was to get out to the lake, my brother promised to pick me up promptly from the airport.
That was the plan, anyway, until my flight was delayed by 45 minutes and I missed my connecting flight and my rescheduled flight arrived at a time that conflicted with my brother’s schedule and my brother’s car drove over a nail as the two of us were finally on our way and frustratingly, maddeningly close to the lake and we discovered we had a flat tire.
So, there we were at 8:30 p.m., pulled over in a littered Walmart parking lot waiting for the Triple A guy to come while, without fanfare, the sun made its nightly descent toward the western horizon.
No lake, no Adirondack chair, no wine. Just nature doing its daily thing, gifting anyone interested with an inspiring display of color and light.
Leaning against my brother’s disabled car, I grudgingly looked up to see the clouds turn rose and amber in the skies over Walmart. And even here, I felt gratitude wash slowly over me.
It’s easy to be attuned to the beauty and marvels of the natural world when we’re in idyllic surroundings. But why wait? Why not make an appointment to be present for what the earth so generously offers us right now, wherever we happen to be?
