One of my Instagram friends recently told me I see the whole world as stories.
Guilty as charged. When I take my camera for a walk, I keep my ears, eyes and heart open. Stories are everywhere.
One day I noticed a plastic bag caught in a tree. I thought some dog owner had scooped the poop and lost the bag to a strong wind. Once I saw it on the screen, I figured a bird fancier had probably been planning to feed a slice of bread to the ducks in the marsh.
Another day the air was so still the gazebo in Waterfront Park cast a perfect reflection on the lagoon. Just looking at it made me feel dizzy, as if I were seeing the world upside down. Then it made me laugh.
All winter a Canada goose wandered around alone. Sometimes she hung out with the mallards. On occasion she wandered along the walkways outside our high rise. She knew some of the humans would offer her food. It was a snowy, bitterly cold winter so I started buying hen scratch for her. She would disappear for weeks at a time, then reappear for a few weeks before leaving again. I took the photo below on the last day I saw her. I still hope she will reappear one day, goslings and mate in tow.
Each day for the last couple years I have been pasting one of these Small Scale Stories (with the subtitle, Only Slightly Off Kilter) on Instagram and Facebook. Instagram friends starting asking me to put them in books. The first two are available on Amazon, That Tree Talked to Me and Parts of Me Are Still Amazing. The third, The Disappearing Pumpkin Choir, is coming out very soon.
I have a dream for these Small Scale Stories. For a long time I have been convinced that once we know each other’s stories we are more compassionate, less judgmental. I think that holds true for the planet too. Earth does her best to deal with the degradation we throw her way, but she could sure use some help. These small stories are my way of encouraging us all to connect with everything around us.