Category: noticing

Posted in noticing

Who’s watching?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Quilia on Unsplash

The sky was fully blue when I saw the big dog watching the sky. She’ll often notice a low-flying hawk or a high-flying jet followed by its contrail.

This morning was different. A couple of silvery objects wandered back and forth overhead. Drones. I don’t think anyone was spying. Probably from a realtor or contractor.

But you never know. It made me wonder, “Who’s watching?”

The short answer is, “Everybody.”

Cameras watch every intersection. They watch you entering, shopping, and checking out in stores. Someone’s watching at ATMs and banks. TSA grabs a picture at security. Potential buyers “watch” your online listings, hoping you’ll drop the price.

That’s just the tech. What about the people?

After a few minutes at a car dealership, a salesperson who saw you will engage in conversation. A voice from somewhere says, “Welcome in,” as you enter a store. At restaurants, someone is watching to see if your water needs refilling. The dog is watching as you prepare food in the kitchen, knowing that something will fall to the floor. Friendly greeters watch for you to walk up the church entrance. A patrol officer is watching from a car just out of sight along the highway. Neighbors keep an eye on my house when I’m out of town.

And then there’s the children. Kids are always watching. What are you doing? What are you eating? Where are you going? Why are you doing that? Inches from your napping face they ask, “Are you asleep?”

Someone is always watching. Is it possible to disappear? Not completely. There are too many eyes out there.

Nevertheless, some feel invisible. No one notices them. No one would miss them. No one sees them. Which translates, “No one cares.”

Be the one who notices. Smile. Say, “Hello.” Ask a question. Validate someone’s presence. It only takes a second to make them feel like somebody.

Posted in dogs, noticing

Just slow down

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by LOGAN WEAVER | @LGNWVR on Unsplash

I used to time myself.

I would crank up Map My Run on my phone and time my walk. I would check my pace, elapsed time, and my route. Could I walk under 16 minutes per mile? Let’s see! Pick up the pace, big dog!

But lately, I’ve left that all behind. I’ve started slowing down to notice what the big dog notices.

For her, it’s all about the squirrels and bunnies. I can barely see my way down the street, and she sees the bunnies on the side of the road. She never misses a squirrel scampering across the street. My eyes aren’t that good. Not in the early morning light.

She sees other walkers and dog walkers from hundreds of yards away. She catches them way off in the distance. Little dogs, big dogs, couples, joggers, and one older guy who walks by. Now I see them coming, too.

Surprisingly, she also picks up on hawks, airplanes, and drones. Somehow she knows where there are interesting things overhead. She glances up and follows them flying by. I stop and look up, too.

When I’m moving slower, I notice the colors in the sky. Mostly pinks and oranges at dawn. They only last a moment, so I have to pay attention. And I’m glad I do.

She remembers, too. She remembers where every other dog in the neighborhood lives. As we approach and pass each house, she gets excited. I forgot; she remembers. That spaniel. Or that chihuahua. The pretty golden retriever. The sheepdog mix. The woofing mixed breed. She remembers.

Singing birds? She hears them. Cardnals. Bluebirds. Mockingbirds. Crows. Hawks. Sparrows. They all start singing at the same time. They all got the memo. They wake up the morning (and me) with their song.

The big dog jumps when a dumpster bangs, an engine backfires, a key fob beeps, an air conditioner starts up, or a garage door opens. What? What’s that? She hears everything.

So now I notice, see, and hear everything. And you know what? It’s worth slowing down.

Posted in noticing

Car headlights – a close call

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Eugene Triguba on Unsplash

I guess I was on auto-pilot. The sky was just beginning to brighten with the first bit of dawn. It’s a Saturday morning, so there’s little traffic and no school busses on the road.

I saw the headlights. I figured the car would be rounding the corner. But the speed was too fast. The driver came into the curve too wide. The lights came right at me and I knew I better step back. The Great Dane and I stepped a few feet onto someone’s lawn as the car continued right towards us.

It was a close call. The driver barely made the turn. The car clipped the lawn before swerving into the center of the road.

Yeah, I shouted, “Hey!” but I doubt he or she heard me. Whoever was no doubt on getting home from an overnight shift at work. Or focused on their phone. Or zoned out. Or whatever.

I’ll bet they weren’t as startled as I was. They may not even have seen me. They aren’t writing about their close car. Just me.

Most people don’t notice what’s going on around them. They are absorbed in their devices, their tasks, or their worries.

It’s a good thing I notice them.

Posted in noticing

Surprised by Silence: The E-Bike Encounter

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I didn’t hear him coming up behind me. I jumped as the e-bike sped by my right side, just a few feet away. Neither the motor nor the tires on the street made a sound. With no lights or reflectors, the rider disappeared into the predawn darkness.

It was early Sunday, so no one was on the way to work. No trash trucks or school busses making the rounds. No kids on electric scooters on the way to school. We turned the clocks ahead for daylight savings time, so even the sun wouldn’t be up for another hour. Who’s going to be out on a bike?

It could have been someone on their way home after a party that lasted till dawn. Or the guy who has to open up the fast food restaurant. Someone who’s car broke down? Worship team member on their way to warm-up? Couldn’t sleep, so they went for a ride?

I don’t get caught off guard like that very often. I like to think I’ve got good situational awareness. I usually notice what’s going on around me. My dog catches what I miss. She usually smells who’s coming before we catch sight of anyone. But this guy surprised both of us.

I don’t like to be surprised like that. But I do like the challenge of being more aware of what’s going on around me.

Posted in noticing

Flamingos

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Okay. So, let’s talk yard flamingos.

First of all, is it flamingo or flamingoes? Either is acceptable, but flamingos is more common. It’s good to get that out of the way.

Here in Florida, yard flamingos are common. Until March 2026, the Northern Mockingbird was the state bird. But the state house and senate just passed legislation making the American Flamingo the new state bird. This is just one very important issue the state government in Tallahassee must address. But this post isn’t about politics. It’s about flamingos!

Here in northeast Florida, people love to put metal, plastic, and ceramic flamingos in their front yards. Some have been there for a long, long time. They are faded and rusty. Others are fresh pink plastic versions of the birds we love to see at the zoo in Jacksonville.

Flamingos are pink mostly because they eat brine shrimp.

The collective noun for flamingos is a flamboyance. I love that!

Plastic pink flamingos were first made by Don Featherstone in 1957 (that’s when I was born!). They were designed to be tacky, but also to indicate ownership with no mortgage.

Some say flamingos communicate your courage to be who you are, live your color (what color am I?), and be connected to a flock.

I like all of those directives. However, most of the flamingos in front yards are old, worn, and weathered. They are tired memories of well-intentioned front yard decorating ideas.

One of my granddaughters combined flamingos and penguins into a mythical “flaminguin”. Can you imagine a flamingo in a black and white tuxedo? Or a pink and white penguin? I can. It’s awesome!

Posted in neighbor, neighborhood, noticing

Do not disturb

Posted on by William Douthwaite

This is another chapter in the bizarre happenings at my neighbor’s house. In our last episode, he had removed all the glass from the solar landscape lights around his front yard.

The other morning, the front door looked different. I couldn’t really tell what was across the front door and what was written on a piece of paper. I hesitated to walk up to the front door at 6 am. What if there’s a camera behind the doorbell or watching the front of the house?

But that evening, my curiosity got the best of me. I couldn’t see any lights on in the house. What did I have to lose? The big dog and I walked up to the door to find two handwritten warnings: “Do not disturb.”

Interesting. From what I’ve seen, this is the last house in the neighborhood I’d like to disturb. On the other hand, I’ve gotten tired of door-to-door tree services, alarm companies, pest control companies, and well- meaning religious groups knocking on my door. I’ve just haven’t gotten around to putting a stylish “No soliciting” sign by the doorbell.

What’s going on in that home? Something illegal? Something sinister? I don’t know. But I’ll bet this isn’t the last post I’ll write about this house!

Posted in hygiene, noticing

Flossing

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I enjoy people watching. Of course, just when you think I’ve seen it all, someone surprises me.

That’s right, this woman is flossing her teeth. I saw her while sitting in the waiting room at the dermatologist. She was chatting with her daughter, getting all that gunk out from between her teeth as if the other dozen people weren’t there at all. She was so absorbed in public self-care that she didn’t even notice me taking pictures.

I’m not sure that anyone else noticed her. Most people were either scrolling on their phones or dozing while they waited. I could have photographed everyone sitting there. I doubt anyone would notice. But that’s kind of creepy, isn’t it?

I’ve often wondered if anyone is noticing or watching me? On any given day, probably not. Everyone lives in their own little bubble.

So I can people-watch to my hearts content. No one sees me. No one cares. I’ll be sure to share my favorite observations with all of you.

Posted in noticing, outdoors

Around and around

Posted on by William Douthwaite

We were almost home from a morning walk when I noticed a large circular contrail in the sky. I’m used to seeing the contrails of early morning flights crisscross the sky. I don’t remember ever seeing one that circled back on itself.

I took this photo facing east, so the jet would have been out over the ocean. We guessed the plane was in a holding pattern, waiting for clearance to land. As we looked, we could just see the plane at the front of the contrail, heading back north, most likely into Jacksonville.

When I looked up circular contrails, a conspiracy website said they were actually chemtrails. According to them, some sinister group was spraying toxins into the air to poison a population. That’s an imaginative idea to be sure.

Another person suggested it was a flight pattern for training. That’s possible. We’ve seen a lot of air national guard planes and helicopters overhead the past few weeks.

Anyway, it was a beautiful part of this morning’s sky.

Posted in noticing, Travel

I should have been paying attention

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“Why am I taking this exit?”

It was too late to change my mind. I was already on the interstate exit ramp. But it was the wrong exit. I wasn’t going to a grandson’s baseball or soccer game. I was on the way to church, two more exits down the road.

It wasn’t a huge deal. I had plenty of time. And my alternate route only took five extra minutes. But why did my autopilot malfunction? I’ve been to these two places so many times I don’t even think about it. I just go. Maybe it was because we had just been to two games in the past week. Maybe I got distracted by conversation with my wife and the two boys in the van with us. Who knows?

I’m usually paying attention to where I’m going. I’m aware of my surroundings and what’s going around me. I hear the weather on the radio, catch the silly chattering of grandkids in the back, and pay attention to every little noise the van makes. I don’t know if I’ve ever gotten so absorbed in work or a project that I lost track of time.

My detour reminded me of a story from some friends in Iowa. They were on their way to some city west of Des Moines on I-80. They chatted about all kinds of things, making the drive seem short. Then they noticed a sign “Omaha – 10 miles.” I know, it doesn’t seem possible, but they drove about one hundred miles too far that day. That’s losing track of time!

How many things do I do each day without thinking about them? I can brush my teeth, tie my shoes, and sign my name without a thought. I can ride a bike, catch a ball, play guitar chords, and eat a donut without engaging my mind. It’s fascinating that my body just knows what to do.

So I remind myself to pay attention. I don’t to be that guy in the middle of the grocery store aisle, oblivious to other shoppers. Or the person ahead of you at the intersection, unaware that the light has turned green. (Although I confess that I have been that guy.) Or the worshiper who says the Lord’s Prayer or the Apostles Creed while thinking about what you want to eat for lunch. (Been there; done that.)