I'm probably not so good at observing, at least not in any scientific way,
but I wonder if there is another kind of observation.
that a picture wouldn't capture, but a metaphor would.
the kind of observation
where you see a moment like a watermelon lifted up and dashed upon the rocks--exploding.
when you feel the moods of nature bleed out from the sun like melted butter, and glaze the fields a golden hue.
if you just saw a watermelon lying cracked upon a rock you must have been distracted.
You missed it.
You missed all the waking glory;
all the vibrant buzzing,
its a moment ready breathing:
steeped in season,
arc of reason
mirrored full and rounded fell--
stretch and coil
filling sanded shell.