The bucks have come through the backyard, nibbled at leaves from the tree branches, drunk from the water tank, displayed their majestic beauty for a few minutes and meandered back into the canyon. Zucchini bread bakes in the oven heating up the room more than I'm comfortable with, iced coffee accompanies me at the table along with pretzels and almond butter. Adele and friends play in the background along with the music of the washing machine and the air conditioner's start and stop. Memories of coffee and conversation shared this morning at a favorite local shop come in and out of my thoughts. Wrestling with the mysteries, the losses, the confusion, the disillusionment tangled up with the gratitude and wonder of life. We need each other to help peel the webs away from our faces as we walked unknowingly through them, got stuck--to free ourselves of their remnants. We can't see them, but we feel them. Thoughts from Ann Voskamp's incredible book One Thousand Gifts drift in and out. I will read and reread her words, over and over. She speaks my language. I am so grateful (thank you Taylor) I found her. A chat with a daughter as she strolls my grandson down the street past the cozy bookstore, coffee shop with delicious crepes, corner store with delightful African-made gifts, pizza parlor, movie theatre (purchasing tickets for a much needed and deserved date with hubby tonight) and much more that resembles a feast laid out on the table with no possibility of being able to partake of it all.
     The deer are back--this time it's the females. A squirrel joins them scurrying across the grass. And the sight of the moon last night coming out of Poetry Night with the setting sun coloring the other side of the sky orange and pink comes back in view. Laughter, simple joy, gift. Lifting my granddaughter out of her crib after a nap, hair tousled, eyes bright, wearing only a cute pajama top, instantly ready to play with her "Bubba"--how she grabs hold of my heart once again. Like the sweet sounds of Oliver (from the above-mentioned stroller) travel across the phone line straight down to that same place. More gift. Deer, musicians, friend, daughter, moon, grandchildren, sky..."And whether I am conscious of it or not, any created thing of which I am amazed, it is the glimpse of His face to which I bow down. Do I have eyes to see it's Him and not the thing?" (Ann Voskamp)