Little flashes of beauty fly by so fast they hardly register. Today, with faces obscured by masks, people keeping a polite distance, fewer distractions, our homes our central focus, we've been thrust into a new world. At the supermarket I purposely pause at the fresh produce display because the plan is to grab what I need, check out and exit. Colors still compete from floor to ceiling but I cannot take the time to browse and enjoy them. I wonder if the produce manager knows what an artist he is?
Smiles. How I miss that non-verbal exchange. Under my mask I smile but people can't respond so I try to smile with my eyes as I pass them. Smiles mean Hi Stranger, how's it going today? I'm reminded of the pioneers striking out into the unknown to settle distant and dangerous places. How they made do and got creative with what they had on hand, how not having family and friends nearby they suffered loneliness.
Two fawns cross the road ahead of my car one after the other. A truck driver in the opposite lane waits. As they lift their legs into a trot, I wonder if their hooves make a click, click, click on the pavement. The other driver's character shines through as a momentary protector of helpless creatures. I think of my mom Olive, always extending a helping hand and thank her for this little display of nature and for her tender-hearted love of animals.
We've lived to see the unimaginable. How suffering and loss can become the norm almost overnight. Be glad today for unexpected gifts. Jot down those everyday miracles. Hold them close.