Curiosity or Fuzz & Clarity, Part 2

Curiosity is one of our fundamental frequencies.

When we lose it, we are not well that day.

When we have it, we exponentially have a better moment.

Asking ‘why’ can be the gateway question. It lets us go to a different fishing spot (if we want) or re-adjust our focus.

This, it turns out, is a Mayfly. I was glammed by its shape on the motel door. Their presence means that the nearby streams and lake are healthy. Fly fishermen tie knots (or purchase them) that mimic the Mayfly—ahem—trout love them.

Life for them is a process of morphing: from eggs in the water, then a phase of emerging with wings, then resting for an hour somewhere private on land while drying off and eating a snack. When ready, they shed that first set of wings for new ones, and lose a functioning mouth. The females fly into a swarm of males and drops eggs in the water. Then everybody dies.

During this last winged, mouth-less phase, they live for a whole day.

Curiosity:

Maybe as simple and fleeting as a moment asking ‘hello…?’ and then listening;

As simple as fishing and catching only lake grass;

As enduring as being with the setting sun on a fine day.