Back when Bruce had a designated vacation time, before we retired and got too busy, we took a two-week jaunt to the Southwest. No matter where we travel, we pay attention, which mostly means looking out the window and not turning on a radio or playing a CD. Arriving home from our trip, we learned that law enforcement, and especially the media, had been chasing a white Explorer for days. We didn’t mind missing the OJ Simpson drama. I still smile at memories of red rocks, a full moon by the San Juan River, putting my bare feet in the Colorado and waving at a bunch of white-water rafters. Oh yeah, and add the Grand Canyon to that.
Even close to home, I’m interested in how crops are doing, whether the hay is ready to cut, if there are geese on the lakes, or how deep the snowdrifts are.
Y’all know by now that I’m a watcher. That’s how writers get their subject matter, besides, you folks need to know about something more important than election hype and whatever conflict is on the horizon. So, here’s some good news, although you probably won’t see it on the boob tube. (There’s a reason I call it that.)
Lately, we’ve been enjoying a couple of weeks of company and family reunions. While the old folks sat around and reminisced, two of my great grandkids amused themselves by drawing pictures. On paper. Eleven and twelve-year-olds don’t need phones! I thanked them later for not complaining about wanting to be elsewhere, and not interrupting conversations, though they were probably bored out of their minds.
Last weekend, we were in Kearney to celebrate a family occasion. Many of the guests were young adults of high school and college age. They helped serve food, did cleanup, and participated in conversations, before retiring to play corn hole and let the gray hairs be boring.
On Sunday morning, we had breakfast at a small café. I’d guess it’s a family business, because the wait staff is mostly young teens. It was almost like watching a ballet. Everyone on the move, paying attention to where other waiters and waitresses were, looking around to see if a table needed clearing, asking if customers needed anything. The person with a disability had a younger shadow, who prompted and encouraged, obviously helping to build self-esteem and confidence in his partner. The place was busy, and it seemed to me that most folks paid little attention to anything but the people at their tables, or their devices. They missed an opportunity to learn there’s much good in the world.
I love watching our meadow for tidbits of joy. Just before sundown, there’s often a certain cast of golden light and, if you keep the television off and listen, you’ll notice birds are a lot like kids; as day ends, they get more active and talkative. One evening, a young robin landed in a hanging plant on the deck, nestled in, and opened its beak. A parent made several trips to bring food; bedtime snack, I guess. Somehow, it seemed easy to believe that all’s right with the world, in spite of us. I left the television off, and decided to keep on believing.
Watch out, will you? Joy is just around the corner, waiting to be discovered.
Meet me here next week, and meanwhile, do your best. Someone might like it.