I can’t pass by a sunset without wanting to snap a photograph. I’ve never seen a picture of a sunset that has done a real sunset any justice. No photograph ever captures the complexity of colour, the sheer beauty, the eerie silhouetting of the landscape, the rays of light that push through the clouds as if the gates of another world have opened, the illumination of the endless sky in hues of gold, purple, pink, and peach. Sunsets are the picture of eternity. If I ever lose my sight, sunsets will be the first thing I will miss.
Today, I am thankful that I have sight. Even though those born without it derive pleasure from the world in other ways, and those who lose it later in life learn to do so, I can’t imagine my life without the gift of sight.
I don’t want to focus on loss of sight as a disability. I had a blind acquaintence in university who volunteered helping new students who were blind learn their way around the university. He played electric guitar and he took a bus to Toronto a few times each week to work for the Canadian National Institute for the Blind. There is a blind man in my neighbourhood who walks simply everywhere, always with a broad and warm smile on his face. Disabled these people are not. Maybe they can’t get in the driver’s seat of a car, but there is plenty they can do.
But I’m too much in love with the world I see to give up sight of it. Call it an appreciation, an obsession, an addiction — whatever you want to call it, I’m grateful.