Mornings, I look to the tops of the tallest trees while I drink my coffee. I don’t know what I’m looking to see. Clouds and blue skies, I suppose. Circling birds, perhaps … a hawk or crow.
This time of year, fireflies party nightly up there, near the tops of the trees. I looked to the dark sky the other night to see if there were stars, and I saw stars flickering and moving. Not stars, silly me, but fireflies. A dazzling sight, the treetops and fireflies co-mingling with a starry sky.
Tonight, following a day that was hotter than summer days ought to be, and after an early evening rain that fell short of what was needed, the last light of day painted the sky a bright, colorful hue of yellow-gray. It was a noteworthy, beckoning sky, one you couldn’t miss. Then I noticed the house siding was unexpectedly lit with the brightness of the setting sun. An atmosphere that’s unique and embracing, radiant, and at the same time, turning dark. An atmosphere steaming with contradictions and serendipitous possibilities.
Sometimes when I first wake and glance about, inside the confines of the closed shades of my room, I see only the distressing loop of reality and worry. I should know to go outside those shades and look up for the promising possibilities I’d find in the breeze moving around the tops of the trees.
There’s this thing about serendipity, though. It comes as it wishes. You can’t count on serendipity, you can’t look to serendipity. It comes as it will.
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On a warm summer’s evening … simple words … my favorite kind of words … packed with age-old nuance and memories.
Credit: The Gambler, performed by Kenny Rogers (1978), written by Don Schlitz.
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I post mostly nature photos there.
etikser 