Wonderment

I was up early this morning: 4.45.
It was light already: still, quiet, not a leaf moving, shades of silvery and pale peach, skies clear except for a thin streak of cloud like quicksilver in the sky.
Just a wisp, like a single stroke of an artist's brush.

I busied myself with my journal for the next half hour and when I looked up again, the sky was overcast.
Just like that.
The wisp became cloud cover in a matter of minutes.

And I thought about how our obsession with finding out how things work has robbed us in an unexpected way.
How much more wonderful to be full of wonder
Allowing some things to just be a beautiful mystery
Like a child
Wide eyed .

Knowing about the water cycle is interesting and educated.
Knowing about frozen water vapour also.
Being familiar with the theory of music is commendable
And knowing the niceties of the colour wheel -

But marvelling at how clouds just "arrive" in the sky, seemingly by magic?
And that no two snowflakes are the same, each fragile work of art a once off?
And that certain musical notes placed in sequence can move you to tears?
And that nature can put clashing colours together and  make them sing?
That is a world of enchantment, ever expanding, if we can take the time to wander around in it.

The trick, for me, is not to shun knowledge but to never allow it to replace wonder, awe and gratitude.

PS: I touched on how knowledge can sour the love of the thing in this post