For example, on Monday I drove up to Crystal Lake for the solar eclipse. But I hadn't bothered to acquire those special glasses that allow you to stare at the sun without going blind. So at first I caught only tiny glimpses through my normal sunglasses. Then I noticed the sun's wee reflection in the tinted window of my SUV. The moon's partial outline could be clearly discerned upon the face of the sun's reflection. This contented me for awhile, until Ranger Nick rolled up in the Cafe parking lot and offered to share his special glasses. Alas, I was finally able to stare straight at the sun, which appeared as a shrunken spot of light in a black sky. Now, I know the sun is actually a huge celestial fireball without which there would be no life on Earth. Yet what mattered mostest was its miniature appearance through Nick's special glasses. Therefore, in this way, even the sun is more significant when it's tiny.
Indeed tiny things focus one's attention on what really matters. And the way I experienced that eclipse turned my attention to all the other itty-bitty things around Crystal Lake. For example: the piddly amount of water in the lake itself.
Water is that one resource whose value increases as its availability decreases. Imagine if all the water were gone. That would not be good.
Also, I spent some time considering the puny honey bees and other insects that live along the scum-covered shoreline.
It would also not be good if all the insects were gone. But personally I wouldn't mind if the ants and mosquitoes went extinct.
Rather than admiring a flower as a whole, like I usually do, this time I analyzed and objectified all the teeny private parts, such as the pistil and the stamens.
Isn't sex great?
I mean, isn't a tiny amount of sex great? A large amount means you're probably a whore. Of course I'm talking about plants only. Plants that are prostitutes.
Continuing my search for all things great and tiny, I eventually came upon a miniscule pool next to a pipe feeding the lake with fresh water. The steady flow had created a shallow depression in the ground above the shoreline. I sat down and relaxed in the cool water. And that's when a knot of microscopic toads emerged from the poolside vegetation.
I guess they weren't technically microscopic in size. But I've run out of appropriate synonyms for tiny. Furthermore, I can't believe I just used the word knot in reference to a group of toads. Clearly I'm way too into my own pretentious head, and it's time to put this article out of its misery.
In summary, tiny equals awesome.
