blindness

There are colors out there we just can’t see. A bee, gently buzzing through the air, examining the flowers, as a groom to his bride, looking for the perfect blossom, can select its flower based upon colors that my simple eye just can’t see. There’s something about some rods and cones that we only get part of the world. There is so much more. As I sit, the melodies of songs are streaming through me in a garbled mess, only to be deciphered by instruments who can see better than I do and make sense of it all. Some can see colors that are so beautiful and so alive and only exist on that special ‘other’ with whom to mate. We may look at the creature and say, “I see nothing special there,” yet to that other animal, that creature burns and shines with such magnificence that sometimes the sunrise on the Atlantic gets a bit jealous. What goggles can I wear, what spectacles can facilitate me seeing through the dullness, the drab existence around me, to view these wonderful colors that others have been so blessed as to see. What can I not see that warms my soup? What does that look like? What can I not see that is so scintillating to my olfactory senses? What does that look like? What can I not see that casts shadows upon the wall? Mr. Plato… why don’t I just turn around, right? The answer’s there if I just turn around.