Monday, July 19, 2010

Pulling up behind an SUV today, I see a flash of yellow outside the right-rear passenger window. The yellow waves up and down, and I can’t make out what it is. As we stop at the light, I see that whatever-it-is is attached to a white stick.
    Whack, whack whack: The stick smacks against the window frame; the flash of yellow jerks up and down. The SUV heads left, the yellow flash turns – and then spins in the wind.
    Ah! A pinwheel!
    I suspect the small hand wielding it has just learned a lesson in planetary forces.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Morning joy: Yesterday, walking to the coffee shop, I pass under an evergreen. Leftover raindrops hang from pine needles and hedge leaves, tiny mirror balls glinting in the sun.
    The visit to the coffee shop was more than a momentary joy. For years, a group of moms has been meeting at Keswick Coffee on the first and last days of school. The last-day-of-school gathering didn’t quite come together this year, and one friend decided she didn’t want to wait until September, suggesting a Bastille Day celebration instead. Bonne idee! (Thank you, web translator.)
    We commandeered two tables and five chairs on the sidewalk outside the shop. The circle shifted through the morning: As one left for work, another came to take her place. Coffee, tea and conversation flowed.
     The perfect way to start the day.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

If you live on the East Coast, you may have noticed the temperature climbing of late. Indeed, when I got in my car after work on Tuesday, the thermometer on the dash read 109 degrees. Toasty.
    Walking to my car after work this afternoon, I felt something I haven’t felt in the longest time: a raindrop … then another, and another, and another. Really, truly, absolutely, it was raining.
    And it was glorious – brief, but glorious.
    So often when we get caught in the rain, we hurry for shelter or quickly open the umbrella. Not today. I consciously slowed my pace, and savored each cooling drop.
    Within 15 minutes, even before I got home, the rain had disappeared, and the sun had come back out in force.
    We’re not out of the sauna yet, but there’s hope.

Monday, July 5, 2010