Yesterday turned out not to be one of my best days. I landed in the middle of a mess, big enough to make the memory lapses mentioned in last Friday’s post more worrisome than humorous. A mess that made me feel like our pink peony bush hit by frost awhile back – disappointed by the promise of beauty nipped in the bud. A mess big enough to make me wish for a humongous do over or a trip back in time.
That didn’t happen so I did the next best thing instead. I took my camera along on my morning walk, determined to photograph the beauty around me. First I saw a pair of goldfinches. They are everywhere this spring, and this male sat still long enough to have his picture taken,
though his dowdy wife flew out of the tree just before I could capture her photo.
Next, a red fox made an appearance, but you’ll have to take my word on that because he ran into the ditch and hid before I got my camera out. Not too much further along, a photogenic woodpecker struck a pose,
and a Grant Wood-style plowed field took my breath away.
Beside the stone culvert over the stream, the wild rose that caught my eye the other day still sported a few blossoms,
but the little shrine beside it – perhaps in memory of the high school student who committed suicide last Thursday evening – brought tears to my eyes.
I thought about the woman in our town who will soon bury her son.
I imagined how her heart is breaking,
How she must want to go back in time,
How she would give anything for a do over.
The remainder of my walk yielded no photographs. No more birds, no flowers, no scenic panoramas. Not because beauty disappeared, but because my perspective changed. Beauty hugged me close, too close for a photograph. Blessings surrounded me.My children are alive. My husband is healthy. A grandchild is coming.
Living children.
A healthy husband.
A grandchild coming.
My messes are small.
My burdens are light.
I am blessed.
