Early one beautiful summer evening, when everyone else was drinking indoors, Tony and I walked down to the river. We lay on the grass under a tree and chatted. At one point, Tony said, Look at the pattern of lace the leaves make against the sky. I looked at the canopy above us, and suddenly saw what he saw. My perspective completely shifted. I realized I didn't have his eyes -- though once he pointed it out, it became obvious. It made me think, My God, I never look enough, and in the years since, I've tried very hard to look -- and look again.
On a warm summer evening, while others enjoyed drinks indoors, the narrator and Tony took a stroll by the river. They found a spot to lie on the grass under a tree and engaged in conversation. During their exchange, Tony pointed out the intricate patterns created by the leaves against the sky, leading the narrator to notice these details for the first time. This moment changed her perspective, highlighting how she had previously overlooked such beauty.
The experience prompted the narrator to reflect on her own observations and the importance of truly seeing the world around her. Inspired by Tony's insight, she made a conscious effort to look more closely at her surroundings in the years that followed, illustrating a growing awareness and appreciation for the details often missed in everyday life.
