It is sunny here today along the river—not too hot, not too cool. The sky is a fresh-scrubbed blue thanks to the thunderstorms which moved through during the night.
As I write this I’m sitting at my desk with its window view where I can look out across the green yard and beyond, to the moving river which sparkles in the midday light. Cicadas are ratcheting loudly in the trees. Hummingbirds circle the feeders in swift aerial ballet.
In the kitchen I have pork slow-cooking in the crock pot for supper. The meat is well-seasoned with garlic and onions and roasted chilies. Though it won’t be ready for hours, it’s rich, spicy aroma fills the cottage and reminds me that I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.
This morning Moon-the-Dog and I took our usual amble up the dead-end road and back. Then I poured myself a second cup of coffee and settled at the desk to get out some work. In a bit, I suppose I’ll have to figure what to do about lunch.
For now, however, I’m content to just lean back in the chair, gaze out the window, and consider…
I am a wealthy man. In fact, old King Midas himself was never so rich—though my bank account would doubtless give anyone who measures worth by dollars and cents a very hearty chuckle.
No matter. In truth, I’ve never cared about money. Don’t get me wrong…I like many of the things money can buy; I’m not adverse to spending money when I have it—it’s just that I don’t have to have it waiting to spend to feel secure. Or to feel wealthy.
Given a choice between great wealth and great health, I’d pick health every time. Except you simply can’t choose that, either. I’ve had various health problems in the past, have several current health issues—and might even die from something sooner or later. But then, I never figured I’d live forever.
Life is what we make of it within the moment, lived in the context of the here-and-now.
My here-and-now is a day so achingly beautiful that nothing money might buy would ever come close. How much would you have to pay to see sunshine streaming through the sycamores and bouncing like scattered diamonds off the water? What price to hear a wren’s sweet song? Or watch an eager bee nuzzle into a blue chicory blossom?
Others may choose to fill their blogs on this day with rants. Let them raise their voice in complaint—because there’s always something to complain about, a wrong to be righted, a protest to be made. Many take great delight in finding fault, targeting blame, pointing out guilt.
Life is not fair. Honesty and truth don’t always win. There is evil in the world and bad stuff does happen to good, innocent people.
Yet, for me, on this lovely August afternoon, I can’t find it within to complain or rant or be angry. My heart is just too filled with joy and gratefulness at being so very blessed. I have so much to be thankful for, and am surrounded by much beauty that's mine to enjoy.
My life isn’t perfect…but it is fulfilling and complete. Why, it even includes at least a couple of people who genuinely love me—plus my faithful old dog.
Love. Me. Just imagine!
So that’s my report for today from the riverbank. All is well. Wonderfully, beautifully well.