Open Air

(a picture of me and some friends on my 29th birthday)

There is something about open air that I just can't get enough of.

Given a choice between in or out of doors, I would undoubtedly take OUT-- mosquitoes, evening chill and all. It's hunger I have known since I was under 4 feet tall that has persistently drawn me closer to the Equator, where life in the open air is more possible year round .

Breezes past my face—the weather forecast; sun angles, tree shadows, and animal sounds—the time of day; sun and stars orient the four coordinates; seasons march on, by no effort of ours, marking years and the relentless passage of time, helping us to remember; tree tops suggest how to dress for the day; midday wind relieves suffocating heat…and whips me dry, sending me to search a watering hole.

Being out of doors reminds me I am not alone here, with the sounds of playing neighbour children, friendly greetings and aromas of meal prep. Breezes teach me to dance and bird songs prove that it's worth singing, period. Open windows put me at ease. Nature's palate of infinite colors expands my vision to infinite possibilities, lifts the spirit to joy and gratefulness.

This thirst for open air and colors became poigniant one day looking out my third grade bus window in Pennsylvania. As a nurse hopeful, I realized how I loved color and that if I had any say, that the four walls of a whitewashed hospital would be my last choice of where to work and live.

So here I am in Niger. I let the breezes, that are blowing my papers, ease the frustrations of a hard day; I smile at the sun that solely lights our clinics. I push dusty hair out of my face, happy that the weather had a play in my day. All these flavors answer an appetite that has shaped and drawn me towards life in the open air.

When I feel the pulse of the ecosystem I live in, there is no way I can think that it's meaningless, or that I am God. When I consider the heavens, the stars and moon You have put in place…