When I was a little kid my friends Emily and Melanie and I looked forward to fall each year. We waited anxiously until the milkweed pods burst open, revealing the magical treasure they held inside. We would race through the stands of weeds, arms outstretched. The stalks would rattle as we passed, and the pods would release their seeds. Each brown teardrop was suspended by an airy parachute. Freed by our small, churning forms they would float up on the air currents; a million airborne fairies.
Today I spent a happy hour opening pods and throwing handfuls of seeds into the impossibly blue sky.
I took photo after photo, trying to capture a seed or more dancing in air. There was a lot of glee as I tossed and snapped.
Recently someone posted about my photo album on Facebook that my life was "beautiful" and they wanted to live it. Today as I took photos of dead weeds (dead weeds!) I had this thought; it is not that my life is
more beautiful than the lives of others. It is that I take time to document the lovely moments, and in so doing appreciate all that I have. To me that is what makes it all worth while... the gratitude for all that is good in every. Single. Day.
1 comment:
So well said!
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