Beauty

I'm beginning to have some understanding of how a pitcher feels about halfway through a game that appears to be a rare "no hitter." Things look good, keep it up... If he can just continue his perfect pitches, he'll get the perfect game and be in history books. Anticipation, fear, trying to not think too much about a possible end to it all. And such joy when it does happen.

This morning the sun is shining. And has for nearly two weeks. It's absolutely gorgeous outside. How long can it last? Clearly we don't live in northern Ohio, where I grew up with clouds @ 70% of my life. Or Oregon, where we spent a week in rain that did NOT cease. And can trees grow that tall without loads of moisture? How long can the sun shine here in MD? Clouds have to show up eventually.

A street light (and who puts street lights up on rural roads by houses on a peninsula, anyway?) is outside our bedroom window. After years of barely being able to sleep in the bright light, we got ridiculously expensive custom blinds to cover our windows. Then I added curtains, just to be certain. Now it is dark when we go to bed. Then each morning, I truly have no idea what it's like out there. Oh, I can tell if the dark has passed away, but until I raise those blinds, I have no clue as to the weather.

So, for the past two weeks, I am thrilled at the glory of the beauty out there. I pull up the blinds and literally gasp, "Oh! It's gorgeous!"

If you have a hot fudge sundae every night, it can get old, right? It's still good, but not as enjoyable as it once was. We all get tired of wonderful things when they are used too often. But what if you know that after your month of sundaes, you can never have another? Ever. What then? I'll bet you'll love the last as much as you loved the first.

So, I love my early morning glory. It is absolutely gorgeous out there. Every day. As I sit here today, the leaves are slowly falling to the ground, covering the yard. Soon it will end, and we'll have to rake up the once lovely leaves, by then brown, soggy and too much for our lawns. But today, well today is a gift. I don't know when it will end, but for now, I love the beauty before me, and have no worries over when it will end.

Anticipation, fear, trying to not think too much about a possible end to it all. That's for the pitchers; it's not for me. I live for today. And today is beautiful.