An Ordinary Saturday Morning

      Sunlight spreads across the planks of hardwood this Saturday morning bringing into focus the left-over remains of my sewing project spanning the last few days and nights. It also highlights the inland sea oats watching over a couple of pumpkins and a tiny tin bird I found in a beautiful shop near by that I fell in love with on sight. Those unique and unusual sea oats remind me of a very fun and interesting evening in Austin attending a meeting of mostly Jewish folks gathered to pursue peace in their homeland. The oats grew in mass outside the temple. I picked some with the help of my very knowledgeable tree and plant friend and they have graced my kitchen table for some weeks now. Opening the refrigerator door to retrieve the touch of milk needed to make my coffee just right, my eyes fall upon an unfamiliar container. It brings a smile and tinge of joy as I am brought back to yesterday's time with a special twosome. Madison's pureed cantalope was forgotten as items were collected from around the house, stuffed in diaper bag pouches and all safely delivered home for the night.
     Ringing sounds from the counter interrupt me for a moment, but I cannot return to my comfy spot and carry on after answering this call. News of the death of a friend's friend jolts me out of my reflections on the simple enjoyments around me. They are still here, but there is another picture before me now of a young woman overwhelmed by grief and pain, questions screaming to be answered, family and friends gathered around trying to comfort her, but her loved one is not walking through the door again. And he is the only one she really wants to see.
     The need to get a gift for a baby shower this afternoon beckons me onward now. What a strange collection like that drawer we all have of miscellaneous items thrown in haphazardly. A play to attend this evening of children acting out The Pied Piper. Yet, the wonderment and mystery somehow tie it all together.