Grateful for the hard work of others who are making this house a reality. I’ve not met many of them, because they slip in and out like elves, but their handiwork remains behind. Thank you!
Grateful for four-footed teachers. Is there any single thing more focused, more intense than a dog whose eyes have spied food? It’s a single-mindedness that puts we mere humans to shame, for the dog puts every ounce of his being into one tasty goal — securing that chunk of chicken. I wonder, sometimes, what I could accomplish if only I could set my eyes so clearly on a goal, mindful of achieving it. Yet, I also celebrate the slowness of pure immersion in the moment, goals tossed aside in enjoyment of the moment. Data’s just as good at that as he is at hyperfocusing on food. Sometimes he doesn’t get the chunk of chicken, but he goes on his way, perfectly content in the moment at hand. I have to admit that I covet the art of mindfulness, too.
Grateful for Charlie who, rather than simply giving me a gift I coveted, went a step beyond and asked the artist to personalize it for me. Gifts are certainly great, but the gift that keeps on giving, year after year, is really the thought that goes into it. The gift is merely a vessel that gently cradles the caring. Hey, it’s nearly gift-giving season. That’s pretty good advice! The photo is of the Crow Bar by Will Bullas. So punny!
Here comes the sun … and it’s as though the bridge beyond is touched by the rays, turning it a blinding white, while the others remain shadowed. Within a minute, the white bridge had returned to its actual dull gray as a passing cloud snagged the sun, putting a halt to its trick of light. But for the moment the sun had the last laugh. Grateful for being in the right place at the right time!
A few years ago, we traveled from Cody, Wyoming, into Yellowstone National Park. The weather had been rainy, but as we progressed through the mountains we stopped in awe of the sky. Yes, still angry and dark but there, above the incredibly green grass and the rugged, rocky outcrop, was a rainbow. Grateful, today, for the clearing skies after an interminable period of rain, cloud cover, rain, more clouds, and rain. Autumn is such a beautiful time, especially with the sunshine making the most of the colors.
Consider the lowly drain pipe. It’s not very glamorous. In fact, it’s downright utilitarian, like shop lights in a garage. Function, not form. (You’re not interested in style, you’re interested in light. Or in this case, water. Or shedding it. But it serves a worthy purpose, this ferrying of water away from crucial things like houses and basements and risky foundations. It’s one of those taken-for-granted helpers.
So I’m thinking about that. What serves to wick away stuff for me? What serves as a conduit, ferrying something from me to another destination? And my eyes come to mind because they leak tears whenever there’s a surfeit of emotions — both good and bad. They lighten the emotional toll so I can more quickly regain my equilibrium. I’m grateful, then, for things like drainpipes, whatever form they may take!