Watch your step

If you’re in the mood to explore, you might say that you’re going to look around. And often we do that literally, scanning our environment from side to side, seldom deviating from eye level. But there’s so much more to see. Sometimes the world truly is at your feet.

When you’re walking dogs in a suburban neighborhood, you might not expect there’s much in the way of nature to appreciate. And that may be true if your view is limited to things that are five to six feet above the ground.

In a neighborhood where it seems almost everyone has dogs, walking involves watching where you step. Every now and then the surprise you find is a pleasant one.

Such was the case on a recent afternoon. I had planned to walk the dogs at lunchtime, but it was raining. The dogs are always up for a walk; I wasn’t in the mood.

A few hours later, the rain stopped and with it my excuse for staying inside. The dogs sensed the same and we were soon outside.

A block or so away we reached the new part of the development where the homes are densely packed, and we began to run into a few other people with their dogs. It was quieter than usual, but the reflective pavement was another sign it had just finished raining. The dogs were interested in what they always are — fire hydrants, small shrubs, the duck pond.

A mile away from the house we turned back and then something caught my attention: the water droplets on the greenery between the sidewalk and the street. I rarely find anything of interest there. Most of the time, it’s just a patch of stereotypically residential green grass, cut short.

Here, the homeowner had let clover take over. Each leaf sparkled like diamonds, covered in droplets that caught the light like sequins on a diva’s dress. While the dogs sniffed a utility pole, I watched the clover. A gentle breeze rocked the leaves, causing the droplets to collide with each other and merge. I raced the dogs home and I drove back with my camera before the scene had changed too much more.

When I venture out with my camera, I almost always find something worthy of a photograph. Turns out, even my neighborhood can be interesting. The dogs knew it all along.

(Kevin’s book, Five Minutes in Nature, collects images and stories about his experiences in the wilderness, curated to help you have deeper encounters of your own. Preview and order it here. Prints of his images are available through LivingWilderness.com. Learn about new work by joining his mailing list.)