Life can be heavy sometimes.
And also. Life contains infinite tiny moments of lightness.
I sat in the grass the other day at the edge of an overlook parking lot on the Blue Ridge Parkway. My husband rode his bike longer than I did, so I flicked out a quilt on the wet grass to wait for him. I listened to bees buzz and watched dewdrops glisten in the morning sunlight. The droplets made tiny rainbows. By human standards, the grass needed mowing, but its height made it a safe, protected buffet for all sorts of little creatures that buzzed and flitted around me.
It was such an ordinary thing — just some overgrown grass by an overlook parking lot — but it was lovely and quiet. I found peace there. I relaxed with my book and my sandwich while I listened to the happy everyday living of all the insects around me.
I want my blog to have the same sort of impact as that little patch of ordinary, overgrown grass. I’d love for it to offer a little break to folks reading it, to lighten the load of life, to change a train of thought, or just to be a place to sit for a minute and feel refreshed afterward.