Seeing more

        I was sitting at my desk, admiring the pencil cup I'd just made (all those pens rolling around, the scissors always getting lost under notebooks and papers ... they were driving me crazy), when I noticed that the light was hitting the tree outside my window in a golden rush. It was beautiful.



        But when I tried to take a picture of it,the pixels lost something - they didn't capture that warm, fierce beauty. They didn't see the spangling orange off the leaves (which turned red all at once, so I looked up one morning expecting green, and saw rust and russet and garnet instead), they didn't feel the heat of the sunset in the cool fall air.

        What was it that my eyes could see but the pixels couldn't? I wondered if film would have registered the gold that my brain insisted was there. I remember being glad that I had synapses and dendrites to remember things by, that I had those messy tangles of tissue that see more, according to the photocells of the camera, than mere light.