Bring The Wonder If You Don’t, Who Will?

Two months ago, my husband and I went camping in southern Wyoming’s Snowy Range. A beautiful scenic byway snakes through those mountains, and at its very top sits an observation point that offers stunning views of high-altitude flatlands, thick forest, and the majestic quartzite cliffs of Medicine Bow Peak.

Being the romantics that we are, we drove up to watch the sunset from the very top of said observation point. Shortly after arriving, we were joined by four guys with binoculars who’d come up to wildlife watch. These men were exactly what you’d expect to see in the mountains of Wyoming: big, burly, bearded, and decked out in camouflage from head to toe. They were friendly in the way rural folks usually are, and we swapped a few stories about the mountains.

Nothing remarkable, really.

But just as we were getting ready to leave, we heard the faint sound of a car door slamming. Dallin and I turned to see a man sprinting down the trail below like his life depended on it. We were sure something was wrong; maybe his hiking buddy had broken his leg or fallen into an icy lake or something and this guy was coming to get help.

Nope.

Instead, he skidded to a stop in front of a huge, brown mud puddle at the base of the lookout, whipped out his phone, squatted down, and snapped a picture. He stood, and even the distance couldn’t hide the manic grin that broke out across his face as he stared at the screen. Then, without a word to us—without even a look—he sprinted back up the trail to his idling car, got in, and peeled out of the parking lot.

Dallin and me and the four burly dudes just looked at each other. Then Dallin said, “Huh. Maybe I’ll go check that out.”

The four guys and I shrugged as Dallin gazelled his way down the stairs and over to the mud puddle. He squatted beside it, mirroring the young man who’d just left … and I could swear the exact same grin spread across his face. He took out his phone and snapped a picture, then hollered, “Caitee, get down here! You’ll love this!”

So I did, with the four big guys trailing behind me. Blessing my sturdy hiking shoes, I squished through the mud to Dallin’s side. Without a word, he held up his phone.

On it was one of the most beautiful sunset pictures I’d ever seen.

It turns out the nondescript little mud puddle, while brown and boring at first glance, was secretly as capable of creating a stunning reflection photo as any mountain lake. So, like any self-respecting nature freak, I dropped to my knees and started snapping pictures. Shortly after, the four rednecks (which, to me personally, is a term of endearment; I was raised by them, after all) caught up and asked us what we were doing. We showed them our pictures, they loved them, and we got out of the way so they could all have a turn.

When we finally climbed in the car to leave (with phones full of sunset photos that would’ve make Max Rive jealous) we looked back down the trail and smiled. Because those four huge, gruff rednecks were still there, and still as excited about their puddle-sunset photos as kids in an ice cream shop.

The moral of the story is this: All six of us had walked right by that little puddle (shoot, I’d stepped in it!) on our way up to the observation tower without giving it a second thought. But that random guy had seen what we couldn’t. And what’s more, he was enthusiastic about it! He let his excitement show on his face, in his body language; he wasn’t trying to hide it! So often we worry about what people will think, especially those of us whose hobbies and interests skew a little on the “nerdier” side.

Don’t.

Be excited. Let yourself enjoy the things you enjoy. Share the books, games, music, movies, shows, etc. that touch you with the people you love and who you think will appreciate them, too. If they’re not into the things you are, that’s fine; don’t force them. But if they’re a reader? Or a movie buff or a gamer? Ask them for recs and share yours. If you just read a book that blew your mind, it’s okay to mention it casually around the water cooler at work, and if the conversation turns to reading, great! Someone else probably loves to read and is ecstatic that you brought up a book, because it opens the door for them to share, too.

If you can see the potential in the puddle, please share it. The world needs it. Bring the wonder, because if you don’t, who will?