Kiwa hirsuta is, in short, a reminder. Of how little we know. Of how much we have forgotten. Of the wonders that exist everywhere, from oak leaf to vestigial tailbone. Of how we have to remember to look around, to cultivate the skill, the ability to see, lest we slowly go blind.
Some say we have lost our power to be awed. We are too jaded, too saturated with media images and the relentless barrage of unspeakable war horrors, too soaked in the info overload of the Internet to be able to process and filter and pick out the gems and stand back and say, Oh my God, would you look at that, and what might that mean, and isn’t that just the most amazing thing and doesn’t it put everything in a fresh perspective, just for a minute?
I say that’s utter BS. We are never too far gone. I say it is merely a switch inside, a slight shift in the perspective, a re-activation of that portion in the human soul that, when slapped awake and re-energized and detoxified, will suddenly remember how easy it is to be continuously, calmly, deliriously amazed.
A lovely column by one of my long-time favorites, Mark Morford.