It's okay not to know a lot about a lot

It is quite alright not to know a lot about a lot. It is perfectly okay to look at a car or plant or fish and only call it a car or plant or fish. It is okay not to have a story or opinion about that car or plant or fish. I, myself, don't know a whole lot of anything. What I do know is that I will spend my life dabbling, admiring, abandoning, coming back to, and wanting to learn. What I do know is that I will learn a lot and forget quite a bit of it because that's how many brains happen to themselves. What I do know is that I spent the day with a poet, a naturalist, and a geographer. And not only are they a poet, a naturalist, and a geographer but they are many other things of which I do not know. This trifecta of knowledge led me and others up and along a mountain.

I spend a lot of time in the woods and don't have much to show for it but appreciation and awe. I spend much of my time in the woods alone which is mostly preferred. But today I was part of this thing called a group and as I was a part of this thing called a group, I adored a man--a complete stranger whose name I do not know--as he gazed upwards with wonder like he'd never seen a bird or sky before. I wanted to know the things that he knows because he must know some really good things in order to look at the sky or a bird with that much renewal.

His awe, my awe.