When I look at the world, I see more than what’s physically there. The colors are more saturated, the sun shines brighter, and the clouds are always puffy like cotton balls. When I sail back and forth on a playground swing, I close my eyes and I’m flying through the galaxy. I pass the stars and planets and they wave hello. The earth is down there somewhere, but my feet can’t feel the ground, so I might as well be miles away.
The dandelions aren’t weeds, but friends who just want to be included 'cause they’re eager to play. The honeybees that buzz ‘round the clover patch are friends, too. They don’t mean to hurt anyone; it’s just that they scare easy. When they follow you around, it’s just because they’re playful and they like you and they think you look pretty and smell nice. The spider is a brilliant seamstress who uses her silky silver thread to embroider lacy stars that iridesce in the moonlight in the forgotten corners that other decorators have neglected.
I see a piece of litter that glitters on the ground, a discarded silver wrapper reflecting the sunlight. A broken piece of red plastic from a child’s toy looks like a flower from the distance as it peers through the blades of grass. Shy, it’s afraid that someone who sees it will throw it away, unwanted, like yesterday’s tired headlines. But I know that it’s beautiful.
This world is filled with so much magic and ethereal beauty, but I think that a lot of it goes unnoticed. Your backyard is a breathtaking wonderland, if you can only see it.