Tonight I am grateful for simple things. Very simple and abundant blessings.
Yesterday morning as I took Honor out for her twice-a-day walk I was struck by the beauty of the blue sky, the dark green of the trees, the silvery white of the last quarter moon hanging in the sky above our condo. It was one of those perfect-day moments that we get here in the Bay area. We’ve had a streak of “perfect” weather days: the sky is clear and blue (versus the “marine layer” of fog that often pushes in creating gloomy sometimes otherworldly darkness in the morning or evenings) and the temperature hovering around 72 degrees. In my view it doesn’t get much better than that.
This morning as I was walking back into the house from yet another morning walk, I saw a fabulous spider web woven by the large spiders that abound at this time of year. The delicacy yet strength of the silken architecture and the creator perched in the center of it gave me yet another pause as I considered the marvel and artistry and beauty of the world around us. While I am not a huge fan of spiders, particularly inside versus outside the house, I have to admire their handiwork. The webs are large and impressive, as are the creatures themselves. I am grateful for the simplicity, for finding the beauty in even the smallest things around me. I think I will not lose this gift; I will work to hold onto it.
Seeing the beauty reminds me of the line from the book The Color Purple: “I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.” I’m not sure what pisses God off, to be honest. But I have to think that if we could learn not to walk by but to stop and take in the richness of colors, the distinctiveness of sounds, the sensuousness of textures and tastes, the pungency of odors the whole world would be transformed. I know, I’m a dreamer. And heck, I’m grateful for that too.
One other simple expressions of gratitude: I am grateful for watermelon. I have expressed gratitude many times for having food of sufficient quantity, quality, and variety that nourishes my body and keeps me strong and relatively healthy. But lately I have been particularly appreciative of watermelon, sweet, juicy, and completely satisfying. Racial stereotypes aside, I think there are few finer foods to eat, few more wonderful harbingers of summer than a deep red, sweet, watermelon. I have the remnants of one in the fridge right now. Even as we hurtle toward autumn, there are still watermelons in the grocery stores and as long as that’s true, it’s still summer. I feel the same way about cherries in the late springtime. Shakespeare said, “Summers lease hath all too short a date.” I would amend it to say, “Cherry season is far too short and watermelon season woefully brief.”
You can laugh at me if you want to, that’s okay. After weeks of writing about somewhat deeper themes in this blog, I decided to write about something slightly less serious, but one that also fills me with gratitude. It’s easy to be grateful for the big things (though people often neglect to be grateful for the significant blessings in their lives); it’s also really important to notice and value and treasure some of the smaller, less obvious ones. Some evenings as I prepare to write my blog I sit at my desk with a bowl of cut up watermelon or a handful of cherries or a mug of neopolitan ice cream. I sit there, murmuring appreciatively with each bite wondering what I can write that I am grateful for. The other night I said, “Hey, I should write about how grateful I am for watermelon.” I talked myself out of it, deciding it was silly, but today decided that it is not silly but rather a representation of all the small things in my life that add up to fill my heart with gratitude. So I continue to be grateful for the little things–blue skies and spiderwebs, watermelon and summer breezes, and the color purple.
Blue, green, silvery white...Sunday morning sky
