Thoughts on listening to my granddaughter reading Charlotte's Web to her Greatgrandmother
Revelation!
How often do we hear angels sing, and hear only buzzing?
How often does the future, near and real, spread itself before us, and we see only what we are expecting to see? Or what we fear to see?
How often do we mistake the miraculous for the marvelous?
How often do we settle for delight instead of ecstasy?
A child reads, imagines, and an ancient struggles to remember, to piece together again something called reality. Something dim and long ago and dubious.