They just don't print 'em as big as they used to! Dates on dimes are now unreadable, as are many footnotes. Newspapers are suddenly a challenge in poor light. And the fine print on a medicine bottle? Forget it! The ingredient list on a can of food? Fetch my magnifying glass, please. My new Web friend is the browser shortcut to make fonts larger.

Yet there's a paradox: somehow I've started to see more, and so much more clearly. Sunrises smile at me as they glint off the undersides of dappled clouds. Turtles and chipmunks, harts and hounds, dance for me in the woods. Before, I never noticed toenails and earrings, bald spots and chiseled calves. Now I cherish a glimpse of them. Faded trail blazes on weathered trees jump out at me. "Paint-by-numbers morning skies" are real, not phony-looking.

At this rate of improvement, in a few years when my eyes go completely I'll be able to see everything!

(cf. Seeing and Forgetting (1999-07-15), Opthalmalogic Inheritance (2001-11-23), ...) - ^z - 2008-08-02

(correlates: NothingnessShowsThrough, Comments on EssentialKnowledge, DorsalVerityVentralDeceit, ...)