I read an explanation once of why time seems to go by so much faster the older we get. When we are young, a huge part of what we experience is brand new, and it takes a substantial amount of time for our brains to process experiences and new knowledge. In our twilight years, the data banks in our heads are pretty full, and everything is neatly filed away (although access may be somewhat limited.) The gaps between new and very unique memorable moments increases, so as we look back on the previous day/week/month/year, those gaps are skipped over, compressing that time frame, and making it appear to go by very quickly.
Then the pandemic enters the picture, and for those of us who have chosen to self-isolate out of a sense of self-preservation, the opportunity for memorable moments has shrunken to a mere shadow of its former presence. Memories of the Year of Covid will look dramatically different to young school-age children than they will to senior citizens such as myself. Their painful memories of being separated from friends and peers will have a lasting impact on their lives; in a few years, when seniors are asked what they did in 2020, I’m betting most of us will get a blank look on our face as we try to remember how we filled the days that seemed to flash by like a quickly forgotten nonsensical dream.
So what does all of this have to do with Finding An Inordinate Amount of Joy? As I’ve mentioned before, one of the things Terri and I both enjoy doing is getting out and hiking or walking. We have three places we return to again and again, primarily due to the fact we rarely encounter others who may be leaving a trail of shed virus behind them. Some time ago, on one of our walks, we found an unmarked social trail that took us through some coastal woods with views to the Salish Sea. It was slightly overgrown with thorny wild roses and other brush, so one time I took our garden shears to make the walk there a bit less likely to shred cloth or skin, and noticed someone else had also trimmed back a few obstacles along the way. Finding this hidden gem brought a huge smile to our faces as we revelled in this tiny slice of hidden beauty.
Then, a few days ago, we were walking in a nearby area, and came across several fresh blooms of wild mushrooms. I’ve always found fungal growth fascinating; I bet I have dozens if not hundreds of photos of the unique expressions of this life form in my archives. And yet, I still can’t resist taking even more photos, which I can’t resist posting here and on my Photos page of my blog.
We continued walking; looking through some woods (on public-ish property), I told Terri “I wonder what’s back there?” We went around an obstacle that had blocked our view, and Voila! another hidden gem of a social trail! Ever curious, we checked out this boot-beaten track as it wound through Fir and Madrona, through wild roses and brambles, first revealing a hidden lake, then salt-water shoreline. But wait, there was more! So we kept on, this way and that, under branches and over fallen trees until we came to the end, with a surprise finish. I’m not naming the area to try and keep the trail from being closed by having too many visitors, but I can’t resist showing a photo of where we ended up. If you come, here, please respect the area, and let’s keep it our little secret.
It only took us 10 minutes to walk this little trail to the very end, but I had an ear-to-ear grin on my face every moment I was on it. While I could tell that my unknown friend with his/her clippers had been here as well, for the moment it was a brand-new discovery that just belonged to Terri and I. A new memory was being made, new territory explored, and a freshness was breathed into 2020. Our huge smiles lingered as we walked the 30 minutes back to the car, and we felt An Inordinate Amount of Joy in our tiny little discovery. Here’s hoping YOU are able to get out, explore, be curious, and find your own little moment of Inordinate Joy.