When I was a kid, my mom would try to teach me to look up.
Look at that squirrel, Brooke!
Look at those flowers! They’re naked ladies!
And I would.
Every time I would try to see what she saw, but I just didn’t care.
Her love of nature kind of bored me actually, but I pretended to love it for her because I saw how happy it made her.
But then I moved here and everything seems to have a different color to it. Everything seems brighter, newer, and maybe even more magical?
So I started looking up more.
I started seeing the birds, the clouds, and the trees the way she use to and I finally understood what she saw.
It was love.