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It rained last night much to our surprise. I don’t remember when it last did so. It was a gentle type rather than the sudden downpours we usually get around these parts. The sonorous sounds of this unexpected heaven-sent precipitation was quite soothing and it made for a good bed time lullaby. As I lay dying, I held Harper’s paw in mine. We both had good dreams: waterfalls and gummi bears for me and ‘the hunt’ for the hound. This morning there was wet pavement and the air was filled with moisture. I saw rosy-fingered dawn as I sit in my office.  The sunshine dried everything up and it will be as it was.

It is a comfort to know I am still thrilled by little things like last night’s rainfall. Yesterday I found a ‘new’ Christmas carol  – new for me anyway as it was written sometimes in the 17th century. Its delight is as remarkable as if I had discovered I had won the lottery.  Tonight after work I have no plans at all – I can do what I want including nothing at all.  This too evokes a quiet satisfaction that might as well been the radiance of a brilliant sunset.

I see these as the consequence of gratitude. Finding Joy in the mundane and the simple makes the mundane seem marvelous. A bowl of hot soup is as good as a banquet.  After work  I could go to the pub, the gym, or just go home to be with the dog. All three have their charms.  These are the same Friday choices really, happening month after month without variation. Some would see this boring as all get out.  Urs Truly will be quite content. How many of us can say likewise?

Beaded Larson 001

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November 2018

Spo-Reflections 2006-2018