Skywards

I've been looking up at the sky a lot lately. I realized that I rarely do that now, but I remember often coming home in the evening as a child, and stopping to stare at the stars. I remember sitting in the park and watching the clouds roll by, watching the trees shaking their branches to the wind, of birds chirping and flying about, of squirrels chasing each other along the boughs.



I don't know when I stopped looking up at the sky. But I remember being clearly startled when my friend mentioned the ceiling of a building we were in, and suddenly, I looked up and realized I had never seen it before. I had been in this building countless times, but not once had I stopped to look upward.



For a time, I tried to remind myself to look up, to see other things that were a part of my life, but hadn't been a part of my experience. The reminders slowly dwindled, and once again, I forgot about looking upwards.