Paint Splatters and Otters

I'm sitting here with my hands covered in paint.  I've just finished a painting and am getting ready to pack up and go back into the house.  Just a minute ago, out over the frozen lake, I watched an otter running and swimming across the snow.  It's black, almost serpentine like shape moved with surprising speed over and through the whiteness of winter's blanket.  How many times have I missed these kinds of escapades because my face is buried somewhere else?  Just a few seconds and s/he was back into the bush and out of sight. I need to remember to breathe deep during this moments and just be.