PlazaJen: Passion Knit

The light pools in wobbly squares in the back yard, as my eyes strain into the darkness, waiting for a shape to appear. The contrast between the streaming light from the breakfast nook and the darkness of the night play tricks on my eyes, as I peer for Suzy, our black lab, to mosey in from a corner of the yard. While I wait, I feel the cold night air on my skin and inside my lungs. I scan back and forth, but find myself mostly watching the patches of light, because that is where I will know I've seen her, not tricked by a branch dancing in the wind beyond my scope of vision.

I'm struck by how the darkness blurs the edges of what is illuminated. Even when we think we see something, we believe it to be so - it can be something else completely. It's easier to decide - right or wrong - than to live in the blurry, undefined edges.

I had my one-year exam today for my Lasik-ed eyes; my vision is perfect, and it's been 20 years since anyone's said that. I have some challenges adjusting between close-up and distance, but that's just part and parcel with being almost 40. Some things are clearer, others are not, and having excellent vision is only part of that equation.