Moments

This morning was trash morning in our neighborhood. When I walked outside with one last bag of trash I was surprised to see that it was sunny and cheerful out.
    And all things were as they should be on an early spring day in the Midwest.

This wouldn't ordinarily surprise me. But halfway across the world, there was an island reeling from the devastation of a record-setting earthquake and subsequent tsunami.
     For them, all things were not as they should be.

And the contrast between what I had witnessed on the morning news and what I had experienced right outside my front door was stark.
    Surreal.
        Unimaginable.

Already on my mind was another surreal moment, from yesterday's run. I had just powered up a long and difficult hill on some lovely scenic trails behind a golf course near my home. Hitting the down side was exhilarating after weeks of treadmill running, and as I neared the bottom of the hill a beautiful white-tail deer darted across the path just yards in front of me. After it crossed I could sense rustling to my side so I stopped dead in my tracks. And there they were. A beautiful and majestic herd of deer, seven strong, each with bodies stone still, ears cocked, and white tails erect. I just stood there, as motionless as possible, and stared.  It was astounding!
    And for a just a few moments time stood still.

As I walked, and then ran on,  I noticed a runner just in front of me. He had passed while I was admiring the deer. And he had not even taken time to notice them. All I could think was, "He missed it! He missed a really beautiful moment!" I wondered what would make his run so important that he could not take even a few seconds to appreciate such an amazing sight.
    And I contemplated the busyness of our lives.

How often do we miss the little moments; the smiles, the giggles, the glances, and the hugs; the beauty of a sunset or perfectly shaped rose bud; the silly stories rattled off by our children; a cry for help, or attention, or love?
    How often do we just miss "it" because of our self-absorbed determination?
        Or the distractions of daily living?

What I do know is that these moments don't keep. And they don't return. They come once...and are gone as quickly as they came.
    We don't get a second shot.

And now, as this day draws to a close, my thoughts are driven back to the tens of thousands who will spend the approaching days and weeks
    displaced,
        and mourning the loss of loved ones.

I wonder, how many of them wish for just one more "moment", a moment that they wouldn't pass by if given a second chance?

And I wonder, what did I miss today?
    And what will I refuse to miss tomorrow?