Once, a bear and a wanderer walked the same path.
“How marvellously the stars gleam tonight!” the wanderer exalted. The bear grunted and kept its nose to the ground.
A well appeared ahead. The bear, nose to the ground, avoided it. The wanderer, eyes to the stars, did not.
Instead of helping the wanderer, the bear’s gloats echoed around the well.
“Ha! If you had kept your eyes to the ground, you wouldn’t have fallen in.”
The bear trudged on. It never saw the stars, even when galaxies exploded above it, without it.
The wanderer looked up, found his footing and got out of the well. He dusted himself off and continued, one eye to the ground, another to the stars. For holes are made to be climbed out of, and eyes to see the ordinary and extraordinary.