I just had my windshield replaced. It’s had a big crack across it for about two years now. A week and a half ago, I took a weekend road trip with a friend. We drove my car, because I needed to bring a bicycle. Hers is nicer and newer, but mine is the champion for cargo capacity. I was surprised to find myself uncomfortably embarrassed by my aging vehicle and the gigantic crack.
I should have done this sooner.
Getting the windshield replaced is like getting new glasses. The world looks different, even though it is the same. You’d think you wouldn’t touch anything if you reached out toward it, and you understand how birds make those tragic mistakes flying into glass.
Everything is fresh and new and wonderful, but just for a few moments. Quickly, oh so quickly, I acclimatized to the change and what was wondrous, I ceased to notice again.