Being Watched

I'm staying at some friends' home this week. In addition to sleeping a little too late to walk in the heat, I had left my walking clothes from yesterday in the washing machine. I took advantage of swimming laps in their pool. (No. I did not swim in my wet walking clothes.)

I had not been swimming more than 15 minutes and I was aware of two things:

1. I could walk miles and miles and keep going. I am a walker. Swimming laps is hard.
2. The swimsuit I was wearing was not designed for efficiency. I kept having to put things back in that didn't want to stay. As the daughter of an engineer, I kept trying to adjust body parts and keep swimming. I developed a new stroke in the process, I'm quite sure. I've named it the Tuck Breast Freestyle stroke.

I began laughing out loud thinking about how ridiculous I must look. I was glad that no one was watching.

Or was I being watched and didn't know it? I often have that eerie feeling. Maybe it's because I've watched too much TV? Maybe it's the baggage that comes with large doses of shame in my life? Maybe it's pure self-absorbed narcissism?  I took a laugh break to tread water in the deep end. That feeling got stronger.

I AM being watched!

I looked up into the trees outside their property and staring down at me were TWO VULTURES! My first impulse was to jump out of the pool and run inside. I chose not to--not because of sheer bravery; but, because verbs like jump and run throw my body into cognitive dissonance. Besides, I knew full well what would happen to my upper body in this suit when swift, unexpected moves are made. Even a buzzard wouldn't enjoy a Lori Clark peep show.

The vultures were not shocking to me. I'd seen them yesterday and had taken pictures to post on Facebook. The birds were drinking from the pool. It was both creepy and fascinating to know that while I enjoyed the air conditioning indoors, I could watch three very large and thirsty meat eating birds enjoy the same water I swam in just hours earlier.

It felt quite different to know that those very buzzards were viewing me with scorn for using their water. Having made my decision to avoid unpleasant verb behavior, I watched the birds carefully for a few minutes.  At one point, they simply turned their bodies and eyes upon the road below, hoping, I suppose, for the demise of a panicked squirrel. 

I guess when they determined that I was unsuitable food and probably dangerous, given the sound alone I was capable of making, they ignored me. Their job for the day was not to learn new swimming strokes, or figure out why a woman swimming alone would laugh so loudly. Food and drink, those needs surpassed all.

With an ever present awareness of my company perched above me, I thought about all the other things and people around me that watch when I'm unaware. Maybe I feel as though I'm being watched because I am being watched! 

2 Chronicles 16:9

⁹ For the eyes of the LORD move to and fro throughout the whole earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him.

I was most comforted to know that God knows all of His creation and watches us lovingly. He never grows weary of loving--which is His full time job.