Wonderment
8.02.2008

It is Saturday evening and I am sharing it with a mourning dove that perches in one of my hanging flower baskets. He was born there earlier this summer and I am overly delighted that in the evenings he returns here to sleep. (No really, this really, really makes me happy. Maybe I am a safe place after all.) I have turned on the Christmas lights that weave between the lattice above my head and am sitting in a little red Adirondack chair on my back patio working on a story I have been plotting in my head (and discussing with all writer friends) since January. My little table has an oil cloth covering of a black and white floral pattern that I am smitten with. Band of Horses is playing on my speakers and although Wilco is playing live just a few miles south, I am content. Impulsive shopping has also landed a magenta callalily and maroon day lily in the center of the table that sits between me and my mourning dove. Oh yeah, I have also indulged in three glasses of wine. Could this night be anymore Jenny-vacation-lovely? Probably, but we wont go there now. I am merrily tipsy, smell like deet, and the evening is gorgeous.



This week off has been wonderful & grounding. Despite all urges to keep routine & think about the usual frustrations/ worries , I followed a rule that a friend recently suggested: Do what makes you happy. So some of that happiness placed me in my garden working with the flowers that really make me appreciate nature & compassion. Some of that happiness landed me at breakfast with a fantastic friend sharing laughter that came from my diaphragm with such intensity that I gurgled. Some of that happiness allowed me to go ahead and order that fancy drink instead of sipping water per usual. (I really lived on the edge this week) And finally, some of that happiness helped me find my way through a little private woods to a pile of large rocks that overlook the shore of Lake Michigan. It was there I laid for several hours staring at the sky, listening to the waves, reinvented the concept of August with a special free thinker, and read a good book.



Michelle and I spent many nights this week discussing the topic of wonderment. Truly being in awe of anything that we don't understand or think is capable of occurring. "Wonderment really just a kinder way of saying dumbass," she joked. But I disagree. I never want to pass through my life without finding some kind of magic in the small things. I have one more day to finish up my summer week and am quite excited to discover it's contents. For now, I will return to my much pondered story (which I wish so badly I could share on here but per copywrite, it would not be publish-able. Grrrr) and finish up a perfect evening with my mourning dove in the wings.

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