Five Minutes

Imagine you're out walking, as I was this morning, and like me you see a flash of sparkling white on the ground:



It might be a scrap of paper; it might be a bug. Your impulse may be to step on it, but you'll find out more if you take a minute to have a closer look:



You make out the tiny legs, the elegant curve of wings. A ghostly little butterfly or moth, you think, solving the mystery in another sixty seconds. But there's still more to discover. To do this, you have have to step out of the light and look at it again, even closer, from different angles:



Now you've wasted three minutes, but you can see the shadows as well as the light. If you're captivated, as I was, you'll move in closer, and see details you might not have noticed on your first or second glance. Another two minutes may pass before you'll realize the reason the little critter was sparkling, and how beautiful he is, this thing you might have passed by or stepped on or ignored.

Look at him again. This tiny thing not only brought wonder and delight to my day, he also solved a major dilemma I've been having with a story. All because I took five minutes to stop and marvel.

There are entire universes of such creatures out there, tiny things that flit by you on a daily basis. To truly see them and all their hidden glories requires only a bit of curiosity and a few minutes of your time, but isn't it worth it?