The older I get the more and more I become aware
that when you stop to look at little things…there’s always magic there.
Yesterday we walked the Appalachian trail…
not the entire trail
no, our walk was incomplete
I estimate we actually walked about three hundred feet.
But in the little bit we hiked much to our surprise
we saw flowers, trees and mushrooms and a host of butterflies.
Once down from the trail we hit the white water…actually we didn’t pick up an oar.
We watched, as other people braved the rapids, from the safety of the shore.
But we climbed on rocks, we skipped stones…and with the river running fast
as the rafters cleared the final hurdle we cheered them when they passed.
We waved at a train, talked to people we didn’t know, felt a cool breeze in our hair, watched insects crawl among the rocks as we were sitting there.
We stopped to have a picnic…picking up hot boiled peanuts along the way.
We drove home the Blue Ridge Parkway…pausing to enjoy the beauty of the day.
When we returned to the cabin…
after a morning where so many little things fell into our laps
We took a little time…and took a little nap.
Later in the evening…seated in our rocking chairs
we watched the sun set and the moon rise…as the sound of crickets filled the air.
And I had to smile as I sat in the rocker thinking of all we happened to see
as I was one again reminded of how big the little things can be.
And how important, it is…after a week like we’ve had in our country,
where sorrow has reigned as king…
in the midst of a sadness so big
to look for happiness in little things.
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