It is so easy to ignore the moments of wonder. And equally easy to stop, just stop, what you are doing and revel in them.
It was dusk - that in between time. The drive from work is short and as familiar as an old shoe.
As I rounded the curve toward town a long stretch of shoulder was polka dotted with snowy white petals. It was both a blanket covering the dull gray concrete of the old country road and an intricate pattern of individual petals each one holding it's place in the design of blossoms that had fallen in the recent rain. I glanced to the right as I drove on.
Church had just ended. I was backing out of the parsonage driveway when the flash of red streaked across my line of vision. A quick glance across the lawn to see a robin sitting fat and happy in the freshly mowed green grass. No, not bright enough. And then, the cardinal swooped down to graze beside Miss Redbreast. I put the old Volvo wagon in park and cut the engine.
The brilliance of the ruby red bird flitting about made my heart quicken. He darted in and out of site, dashing up and diving down. My heart beat faster still but the robin seemed unimpressed with the dance. I waited until the display ended and the bird had flown off into the woods leaving the serene robin behind before turning the key on again.
I wondered as I drove away, my heart filled with gratitude for the beauty of that moment, - do robins give thanks for such wonderment?
Thank you. more joy to come. stay tuned.
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