What would happen if we all began to stalk the miraculous? If we began to look for it around every corner, if we expected it to appear? With such a spirit, nothing would be entirely mundane, but sparked with expectation. Seeing miracles is almost exclusively a result of this expectancy and honest stalking, because miracles surround us, only hidden if we close our eyes to them. Annie Dillard sat for hours, day after day, trying to see a muskrat and was finally rewarded with miracle. Thoreau spent his days sauntering the woods, never closing his eyes, and he saw light all around him. “Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads,” he wrote as he walked on clouds. Moses, as he approached the burning bush, had to be told that he was on holy ground; he had never regarded it as such before.
“Beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there. . . . We must somehow take a wider view, look at the whole landscape, really see it, and describe what’s going on here. Then we can at least wail the right question into the swaddling band of darkness, or, if it comes to that, choir the proper praise.”
–Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 8-9