When I was a child the wind sang to me. Literally. It had something to do with our fence, I think. When the breeze would blow it would produce this low, sweet whistle that spoke to my young soul. The world was magical, alive, and I was a part of it. The song of the wind was the background music of my childhood adventures, my explorations of the wonders of life.
Then, one day, the wind no longer sang. The wooden fence was replaced with shiny, new chain link and the music was lost. I was shocked to realize that wind doesn’t normally sing. It rustles in the trees and during storms it sometimes howls or moans, but that sweet, whistling song is not its normal sound. The magic was gone and with it some of the wonder. To this day it is one part of my childhood that I yearn to recover.
Through the eyes of a child the world is indeed a wondrous place. But it seems that the longer we are here on this earth, the less wonder we feel. The simple things that bring such joy become commonplace and the magic of life is lost in the mundane routine of day to day living. I miss the magic. I have pondered quite a bit on how to recapture it. Last week I went to the Loveland Living Planet Aquarium in Draper, Utah with some of my family, which included my niece and her little son. It was a true joy watching him and the other children there as they discovered new and wondrous things. Then, as I stood before a tank of jellyfish and marveled at how they moved through the water, I realized that the wonder doesn’t leave us as we grow. The world around me is just as magical as it was when the wind sang. I just hadn’t been taking the time to notice.
Have you ever taken a moment to examine something as simple as a blade of grass in your lawn? I did, and I was amazed to discover that the tip was shaped just like the prow of a ship. Or have you stopped to listen to how many different songs a meadowlark sings? Joy is found in noticing the simple beauty around us. Children notice. They listen for the song of the wind and that is how they tap into their sense of wonder.
I realize now that my yearning for the music of my childhood isn’t really about the sound of the wind. What I am missing is the magic of wonder. But that magic was never really lost; I just forgot to take the time to experience it. I think, if I take the time to listen, I will find that the world itself will sing to me.