Though it was rather over cast with a cold steady breeze, the balcony sliding door was open for fresh air and while I was making the bed, the television was on in the background. Briefly glancing up at the screen, I noticed a young girl of ten, looking out of the vehicles windshield and while her pupils were growing more sizable so too was her smile. Stepping out of the car the camera followed her and we witness the young girls pace quickening into a steady sprint, moving across sandy dunes until she stops just at the waters edge. We finally see why the girl was beaming with excitement when we see the ocean surf fanning out before her feet. It was then I had asked myself “when was it the last time one looked at the ocean and saw it through the eyes of a child?”
As the thought took a grip upon the mind, I decided to Twitter the question for others to contemplate while I further pondered its significance for it had caused such a distraction to my routine in the morning.
In the past I have taken a moment to observe a hummingbird dancing with almost invisible wings from one blossom to the next or followed with my eyes a disappearing garden friend, the bee, entering into the flowers carpel tunnel to collect pollen. These stolen fractions of a moment always have brought a smile and briefly placed everything back into a proper perspective.
So when my friends from the East Bay Artists Guild came to the house for our board meeting, in walked Frogard, handing me a pickle glass jar filled with freshly cut roses from her garden.
Their colour ranged from a deep dove ruby red to a slighter lighter shade of medium red. The roses gave off a compelling perfumed fragrance that filled the room with an intoxicating wonder and though the pickle glass jar was simple to keep the flowers fresh, it was to be the absolute perfect container, anything else would have just not complimented this climbing English antique rose variety.
This simple gesture by Frogard had me beaming just like the little girl upon seeing the ocean and as I kept looking at the roses throughout our meeting, I found myself in a favorable disposition.
We are primarily too busy multi-tasking, juggling duties that leave little to no time for one to slow down and even stop and take in a moment of undistracted silence. We have mostly forgotten that sometimes we need to look at life as a child sees it, so that when we view a stream of puffy clouds floating above us, we can imagine all sorts of mythical creatures.
It is not escaping our daily responsibilities; it is simple remembering the little pleasures and learning to appreciate them once again.