"Stop That Car!" (What Scenery Are You Overlooking Today?)

No, this is not a ranting post against gas-guzzlers. I've already admitted that I'm driving a minivan at this juncture of my life, but will gladly trade it in for a hybrid when my children age out of the single digits. This is a post that expands "Carpe Diem" to "Carpe Diem Visu Capere", or "Seize the Day to Capture the View." (In case you can't tell, I faked the last two words, taking a little Google stab at some Latin. Don't hold me to it!)

This morning, after dropping off the kids at the bus stop, I was on my way in the aforementioned minivan to pick up the delightful Delilah from a weekend boarding at The Woof & Purr Inn. (Is that not the cutest name ever for a pet kennel?) I was driving along the familiar, winding road from our town to the next, a road I've traveled perhaps a hundred times in the last few years. It struck me how often I've thought to myself, "I need to come back here sometime and take some photographs along this road." Well, when exactly is "sometime" when I'm always on the road between two places, rushing from here to there and back again? So, even though I was quite eager to hug my velvety-eared dog, I finally--finally!--pulled the car over and got out with my iCamera iPhone, back-tracking on foot up the road and snapping random shots of the gorgeousness I had just driven past. (It seems as good a time as any to remind you that these are photos of the real New Jersey, a far cry from Snooki and the Housewives.)

If I waited until my return trip, I would have missed the morning mist at 8:17, the rising sun at that particular point in the sky, these turning trees, this twisting path, that splendid horse munching its hay for breakfast, all in their perfect places at this exact point in time. Because it's always changing--the light, the leaves, our lives. So often at moments like these, I remember a passage that deeply affected me from The Sheltering Sky by Paul Bowles: "...we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that's so deeply a part of your being that you can't even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. Perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless."

Life is not a drive-by experience. Now and then, you've got to stop the car, get out, and admire the view. Even better, take a few pictures. Better still, take a walk with your camera, because lately, driving strikes me as a cascading series of missed photo opportunities.Very rarely do we park at the Scenic Overlook; instead, we entirely overlook (fail to notice) the scenery from Point A to Point B. And then we'll never find out how the scene just might bend and change to welcome us. Take, for example, this fellow who trotted over to say hello to me this morning...

On my walk back to the van, I picked up about a dozen discarded plastic bottles for the recycling bin. I'll never quite understand the absent-minded callousness of driving through the countryside (or anywhere, really) and tossing trash out the window. But, I don't want to dwell on the negative. I spoke soft words to a gentle horse on this fine morning, and that will be my mental snapshot to carry with me through the years. Luckily, I also have an actual photograph this time around.

Your turn: Do you make time to stop and smell the roses, or more to this point, time to snap the photos? Do you take advantage of Scenic Overlooks or do you overlook the scenery? Have any books made you notice more beauty in your daily life? Please share in the Comments section below. If you are reading this post via email subscription or mobile device, click on the title or go to www.JoyfullyGreen.com from a computer to see the comments and leave one of your own. (Don't forget to click the box for subscribing to comments so you can follow the conversation.)