He wants me to pick out his glasses.

“Anything will do”, I tell him.  I lift the binoculars back to my eyes and study a song sparrow on the tip of the Spirea beside the pond, how he draws his breath so deeply, and passionately inflects with his entire body each trill and warble.

“But I don’t want to get the wrong glasses.  I don’t want you to hate them.”

“I can barely see myself.  How will I know what’s on your face?”

That thing about decline in eyesight after 40 is no joke.  Every visit to the optometrist results in stronger and stronger prescriptions.  But I’m not paying attention.  I’m certain that little sparrow is actually moving his wings for emphasis, acting out the story of his song.  His tiny tail bops to his own beat.  

“It’s not fair that they’re dismissed as ordinary birds,” I lament.  “They make this place.  They do the heavy lifting all year long.  Those tropical warblers blow through for a few weeks, and everybody ooohs and aaahs.  This guy’s making this place sound good all the time!”

“You don’t think you’d have time to go with me?”

He’s still talking about glasses?

I hand off the binoculars and resume drinking my coffee.  I’ve got enough to do without taking a trip to the optometrist.

We’re getting increasingly frumpy as a couple, my hair wadded in a twist on the back of my head, his standing out in silvering shocks, desperate for a trim.  We’re starting to be one of those couples who dresses alike, too….Not because it’s cute, but because that’s most functional:  T-shirts and work pants, chambray shirts to ward off the bugs and sun, sweaters or vests at hand for when the mountain air turns chill.  

…Which is not to say I don’t have my moments of longing for beauty.  I watch my daughters choose their outfits with care, with an eye toward drape, flow, texture and color.  If the closet doesn’t yield a creative enough solution, we hear rips, snips, and mad stitching until the desired effect is achieved.  The hum of their sewing machines lulls me to sleep at night after I lay my own vestments  face-down on the chest beside my bed, so that I can pull the same things back on in the pitch black each morning.

I envy their eye for design, their shining young maidenly forms, delicately curving and feminine.

Sometimes I try.  Sometimes I pull on the tighter sweater or the boot cut jeans.  Sometimes I pay attention to the color, or choose something softer, or brush out my hair.

But I’m not always sure Bob notices anymore.  Maybe it’s because he needs new glasses.  His prescription is old, and he’s forever breaking his frames.  He jury rigs duct tape repairs, and when they fail, he borrows old readers from my mom, eventually drops or steps on those while he’s working, then salvages what he can and screws parts of them to the first pair, daily reinventing new mechanisms for keeping lenses on his face.  

I don’t know that getting him new spectacles will improve his vision enough to see his wife the way he did 25 years ago, when I looked more like my own daughters.  But it’s worth a try.

“Anything will do!  You know I think you look good in everything.”  I tell him with exasperation.  “Just don’t spend too much money, because you’ll only break them!”

I wedge my coffee cup between my knees and snatch back the binoculars to gaze once more at the song sparrow.  Maybe he’s defending a territory.  Maybe he’s looking for a mate.  Whatever the case may be, that little guy, so ordinary and commonplace, really wants to be seen.  And he deserves it.

Bob sits quietly beside me, sipping his own coffee, watching the red wings and studying the Spadderdock who has sent up her first yellow lily of the season on the water.  Now, she really knows how to command attention with that flower.  

We spend long moments like this daily, stretches of time saying nothing, just watching nature’s fantastic displays.

The song sparrow fills our silence, his little throat undulating with his efforts.   

I sneak a secret glance at my husband.  He forgets to get a haircut. He skips the shave. He struggles to find the words to compliment me when I pull on the nice sweater.  But before he came into my life, I never once looked at the birds.  I never knew their calls, I never sat, transfixed, as the plain song sparrow shared his gifts with the world.  This is the man who has helped me to see and love in my life all those things that are easy to overlook, but the absence of which would be crushing.

.

Like the song sparrow, we are both mundane and extraordinary.  We face each other every morning, work side by side throughout the day, and fall into bed beside each other at night.  The presence of the other is a non-stop song, making life joyous, helping each other to witness all that is miraculous and breathtaking in this life…And yet, it is so easy to forget to listen to the music, to overlook the wonders that are right in front of us.

It’s just another damned errand on our list.  Just picking out a pair of glasses.  But it’s the ordinary and the commonplace that make a life so stunning.  

Folks, don’t forget that my newest book, Redefining Rich: achieving true wealth with small business, side hustles and smart living, will be launching through BenBella Books this August.   You can help me get the word out AND earn a summer-long discount at our online farm store.  We are putting together a launch team of volunteers who can help promote it. If you’re interested in joining, details are at the top of the blog page at sapbush.com but basically, you’ll 

• Pre-order a copy of the book
• Fill out our launch team form, which is found at the top of the sapbush.com blog;
• Promote the book through your social media channels
• Request the book at your local bookstore and library
• Leave a review wherever the book was purchased

But WAIT!  It gets better!  As an expression of my thanks, here’s what you will receive in return:

• A 15% discount code for anything in the online store at sapbushfarmstore.com, good through July 31, 2021
• A free digital chapter from the book in advance of the release date
• Entry into a giveaway for a signed copy of the book and a throw blanket from my store
• Official graphics for sharing on social media
• An invite to an exclusive virtual book club meeting so I can personally answer any questions you may have once you’ve received your copy. 
• So please sign up – just go to sapbush.com, click on the blog, and the details are at the top.

This podcast happens with the support of my patrons on Patreon.  And this week I’d like to send a shout out to my patrons Robin Becker and Rebekah Tanner.

Thank you, folks!  I couldn’t do it without you!  If you’d like to help support my work, you can do so for as little as $1/month by hopping over to Patreon and looking up Shannon Hayes.