It’s good to be home. We spent time in a city last week, which is never on my list of favorite things to do. As the traffic gets heavy, I begin to shut down and am thankful not to be the driver. There’s an art to navigating the congestion and blessed are they who possess the skill. It’s all I can do not to close my eyes and crawl under the seat. But I keep an eye out for the necessary street signs and landmarks, generally missing them until after Bruce has made the proper turn.
We were fortunate to encounter many helpful and friendly people at our hotel and where we ate, and we probably appreciated them more because the majority of city dwellers do not meet your eye when you say hello, or even return the greeting, much less hold open a door. Maybe the attitude stems from having to drive in that traffic.
Spring has arrived earlier in central Colorado, so trees are fully leafed and early flowers are blooming. There were some pleasant landscapes near the places we needed to go, fountains, little waterfalls, and various kins of shrubs. A bunny hid next to a rock and birds could be heard overhead, although we couldn’t spot them. Spring is still making up her mind out here in the hills but we’re in no hurry, because nights are cold enough to nip the lilacs and plum blossoms.
We have the luxury of more than one bunny, the occasional deer, several kinds of birds and coyote music. People wave when we meet on the county road, and tell us to have a nice day at the store. After the recent rain, we even had puddles. Our grass is coming on but you have to look close to notice much green.
It occurs to me to be even more grateful for the signs of spring out here because there are many places that won’t see much of that. Miles of land that was scorched by devastating fires will grow very few spears of green unless it starts raining soon and keeps on. People who are accustomed to looking out at calves frolicking on hillsides will see only blow sand, probably blowing. Cattle and other livestock that was spared had to find other homes for now. Those folks won’t hear a bird, see deer or a bunny, maybe all summer. They probably won’t even hear a coyote. When there’s nothing to eat for miles, creatures that need to eat move on.
Life can change in a matter of minutes and what we take for granted, and believe is normal, can suddenly disappear. Many things are missing out here, and we are glad not to have them. Traffic, rude people, and the clamor that drowns out nature’s music.
Don’t take any of your blessings for granted. A lot of our neighbors will have a very silent summer. Love and cherish your family, neighbors, and all the critters that God put in your life. Do what you can to help ease the changes that have come to those not so lucky.