Reflections On the Loss of Vision

Reflections on the Loss of Vision by Michael R. Burch The sparrow that cries from the shelter of an ancient oak tree and the squirrels that dash in delight through the treetops as the first snow glistens and swirls, remind me so much of my childhood and how the world seemed to me then, that it seems if I tried and just closed my eyes, I could once again be nine or ten. The rabbits that hide in the bushes where the snowflakes collect as they fall, hunch there, I know, in the concealing snow, yet now I can't see them at all. For time slowly weakened my vision; while the patterns seem almost as clear, some things that I saw when I was a boy, are lost to me now in my advancing years. The chipmunk who seeks out his burrow and the geese now preparing to leave are there as they were, and yet they are not; and though it seems childish to grieve, who would condemn a blind man for bemoaning the vision he lost? Well, in a small way, through the passage of days, I have learned some of his loss. For, as a young boy I endeavored to see things most adults could not— the camouflaged nests of the hoot owls, the woodpecker’s favorite spots. But now I no longer can find them, nor understand how I once could, and it seems such a waste of those far-sighted days, to end up near blind in this wood. Keywords/Tags: reflections, loss, vision, visionary, child, childhood, eyesight, perspective, perceptiveness, acuity, age, aging, cataracts, blindness, time, days, years, decades, near-sighted, far-sighted