I return from all my summer travels and settle into the home routine. I pause by the second robin’s nest that still catches me by surprise. It’s so late in the summer, and yet here they are.
I notice the little claws. And I realize I want to show you these claws.
I consider how this earth holds nearly 7.2 billion people, and only I observe these claws. Nobody else lives in this house, by this bush, in this way that I live. So I thought I’d show you what I saw and how I was feeling.
That’s it. That’s what I do as a writer, teacher, and speaker. I present a viewpoint unshared by others simply because I exist.
As do you.
It’s astonishing to think of how precious your ordinary observations become when considered truly unique in a world of billions. You will notice a thousand beautiful things that I will never see because I am not you in your space. No one in this world sees what you see in the way that you see it.
I suppose that’s why I love teaching writing and reading the thousands of essays I read. It’s because I’m reading a one-of-a-kind viewpoint.
And today, I offer you a viewpoint into a muddy nest where I saw the tiny claws of the robins.
