being amazed at the width
(of water)


I put my fingers in the water and found it cold. [How could I have foreseen such large a loch?]

I listened to the waterfall until I no longer heard it.

I let my eyes travel from shore to shore very slowly and was amazed at the width of the water. […] And a second time I let my eyes travel over the surface, slowly, from shore to shore, beginning at my feet and ending against the precipice. There is no way like that for savoring the extent of a water surface. This changing of focus in the eye,

moving the eye itself when looking at things that do not move, deepens one’s sense of outer reality. Then static things may be caught in the very act of becoming.

Shepherd, Nan. The Living mountain. [1977] Edinburgh: Canongate Books, 2011. Print.

Put your fingers in the water and feel its temperature.
 
Listen to a waterfall until you no longer hear it.
 

Stand in front of a pool of water, a loch, a lake, a pond, a puddle.

Let your eyes travel from shore to shore very slowly. And a second time in a vertical direction. Be amazed at the width of the water.

 
If it’s just a puddle let your eyes travel on its surface anyway and pretend as if you were amazed or let your eyes wander more slowly and see if the puddle expands.
 
Stand in front of the sea. Let your eyes travel from shore to the horizon (and beyond) very slowly.