In a Busy Summer, Hitting Pause and Zooming In

Maggie Slepian

I’ve packed my summer full of Big Things, including lots of travel and activities. I went east to see my family, including stops in Maine, Seacoast New Hampshire, and the White Mountains. On the Fourth of July, I watched lobster boat races from a vaulted bridge over a Maine bay like something out of an Oprah’s Book Club beach read. I checked more of New Hampshire’s 48 4,000-Footers off my list, and then I went west and checked more of Colorado’s 14,000-Footers off. I backpacked some of the most incredible terrain I’ve ever seen, and I’m finalizing my bike system for a self-designed bikepacking route in a few weeks. I’m about to go hike my favorite trail (again), and then I go ride horses for a bunch of artist and animators’ reference photos in South Dakota. After that, I’m going to California to climb Mt. Whitney. I haven’t hit pause in a while, so that’s what I’m going to do here. 

With all of the grandiose travel and events that have happened and the ones I’m looking forward to, I recommend taking a breath and zooming in on what we’re usually too busy to pay attention to. These are four examples of small things that have stood out to me over the past few months.

1) The Tiny Gnat Drying its Wings Under My Tent Fly 

I was recently camped in a rainstorm, my tent set up earlier in the evening than usual to stay out of the downpour. I had the rain fly closed but the mesh open, and I was lying down, staring blankly at the weedy grass poking up into my tent. Just inches from my eye there was a tiny fly, likely one of those gnats that flies into your eye when you’re hiking and makes you curse the day you were born. But this one was out of the rain under my tent fly, and as I watched up close, I saw it drying out its wings. It shifted its feet, pushing the saturated wings up and away from its body. It had double wings like a dragonfly, and I watched it carefully separate each segment until they could move individually. I watched for what seemed like 30 minutes before it walked down the blade of grass, onto another one, and out of sight.

2) Heisenberg’s Toe Beans 

In my continuing efforts (and apparent success) to include Heisenberg in everything I write, I recently paused to appreciate the tiny toe beans of the 14-pound demon with whom I cohabitate. Not only are they perfectly formed and fun to push on—have you ever extended and retracted a cat’s claws by pushing their toes?—toe beans actually have a purpose. A cat’s paw pads have plenty of fatty tissue, which helps them absorb the shock of a big jump or fall. They also help them stalk prey silently. We love cute things that serve a purpose. Much like cats themselves. 

3) The Way My Mom Packed my Box of Stuff

My last trip had some logistical challenges. Before I set out on a long-distance backpacking trail, I was flying to New Hampshire to see my family, and I wouldn’t be returning to Montana between the two phases of the trip. So essentially I’d be leaving a giant pile of stuff in New Hampshire from that nine-day visit, and I’d need all of it back in Montana in a month when I returned from backpacking. The box was waiting for me in Montana, and not only was it tightly packed with everything I’d left for my mom to send back, it was beautifully organized. There were neat rolls of clothing, sandals tucked into corners, bubble wrap around my computer, and a separate nook for my passport and extra wallet items. The items all fit like Tetris blocks, and I could see the extra effort and time it had taken my mom to make sure that everything fit, no space was wasted, and the fragile items were protected. Take a moment to appreciate the extra effort that people in your life put out for you. Guaranteed mood booster.

4) The Sidewalk Chalk Guy 

I was walking downtown the other day, probably on my way from an overpriced lunch at the Co-op to an overpriced yoga class, when this art stopped me dead in my tracks. Amongst the rudimentary scrawlings of children’s stick figures was a man rendering a representational bighorn sheep in sidewalk chalk, right out front of the bank. I marveled at the skill and how unassuming he was, chatting with the passersby and creating a deeply rich and textured image from the same materials I drew body outlines of in my driveway growing up. You never know what’s going to stop you in your tracks if you take the long way between lunch and yoga.