I had been working so hard…bent over the work bench all day, cutting glass into brilliantly colored shapes…like a charmed jigsaw puzzle, they all had to fit just right. Sometimes, on days like those, feeling the tug of exhaustion, I tried bending and stretching to get more cuts out of my day. And as I tried to ignore it and push on…my back had other ideas. Finally, I gave in. I climbed into my warmed-up car and drove a few miles…my seat heaters cranked to “skin melt” and I leaned back into the therapy. Listening to the radio and enjoying the stretching of my muscles, I drove.

I hadn’t really looked around here…where am I?  I can always find my way back home…GPS. So, it’s fun to just drive. I find new neighborhoods, new buildings, new schools….new shops and vacant fields in different phases of maintenance. I like the vacant fields best. They remind me of the vacant field next to Murray’s tree. All of the kids in our neighborhood would meet there for kickball. And we would play there until it was dark or until we ignored our mother’s calls to come in…for the last time. There’s a sound mothers make when they’re done yelling and the next step would be physical removal from the game…or we would find an empty plate when we got home. NOT GOOD! Kickball was always my favorite.

Murray’s tree was right there, next to the field. Anyone that wanted to could climb that tree and watch the game from the best seat in the house. It was the only tree that I ever climbed. And it was perfect for novice tree climbers. Low, strong branches that provided just enough limb to pull ourselves up and offer a place to sit and strategize the next steps upward.  I drove past that tree last year…I can’t believe that was the tree I sat in as a little girl.  Mr. Murray was a painter. He always had work clothes on that were covered in paint. He would let us help him to rake his leaves and then he would burn the leaves and let us roast marshmallows over the fire. What wonderful memories he helped me to weave. He was a lovely man, with no wife or kids….that I ever saw. He allowed us to be part of his neighborhood family. His house seems so small now….in fact, most of the houses in my little girl memories, were so much bigger then…

As I drove past field after field I knew that I was nearing the end of a neighborhood, so I slowed to stop at the last stop sign. Looking up to move forward I stepped on the brake and put my car into park. I was mesmerized. There, at the corner of someone’s yard, was a sight that I couldn’t ignore. I wasn’t going to move until I could take a picture of this. I’m sure they must have wondered who I was and why I was crouched in their yard, taking the perfect picture of the perfect sun through the tall ornamental grass on the perfect winter day. It was just so beautiful….and I’d have never seen it if I wouldn’t have looked away from my work. If I’d have stayed there and just popped a few Advil’s…I’d have missed it all.

I don’t know if it was a nudge or a push that moved me to my car and out of my neighborhood that day…but I’m just so glad that I went. Wondering how I found that….why I turned left instead of right…I guess it really doesn’t matter. I just turned…and not expecting to find anything that would leave me breathless…I found it just the same.

It was timeless in its beauty. The breeze was blowing so gently that the grass barely moved. The sun outlined every wisp of it all and it just took me in. There is magic all around us. When the world seems frantic and unyielding, let’s be ever aware of the little nudges that want to lead us another way. Let’s focus on what may lie just beyond our comfort zone…let’s look up so that we may see all of the wonderful little corners just beyond our reach.  There is little reward in staying at work when my heart isn’t in it…Physical fatigue is proof of that. Let us all at least try to squeeze some joy from each and every day. I’m so glad that I went for that little drive. My back was very thankful…but my heart…my heart is still in awe and very grateful for the reminder…

Life is short, Darlin’. Go for a ride.