evening interruption

Every so often, I am compelled to put down whatever it is I’m doing, that thing that seems to be more important than smelling the roses, and I head outside to smell the roses — literally. This evening, my movement from kitchen to back yard did have a practical reason. I was on a mission to harvest something for the Area Voices bloggers picnic tomorrow evening. You can find out more at the bottom of this post. For now, here’s a hint of what I’ll bringing if all goes as planned:

But as often is the case, I became distracted. My eyes traveled from one corner of our yard to another — over to the wilting "lemonade flowers," as my kids call them. Yes, in all of my busyness, I missed the yellow irises. They were here and gone before I even had a chance to size them up. Feeling deeply the lost chance, I started searching for that which I haven’t missed, and I found plenty and I cannot wait to share my find with you soon. Here’s a hint of coming attractions:

However, just as I was ending my photo session out back, I heard a familiar refrain, and before I could say "Rumpelstilsken!" two times, I was being dragged out front toward another scene — this one a little less fragrant but every bit as sweet, in my kids’ minds.

It’s not every day the ice-cream man stops at the end of the driveway!

So for now, I share treasures of another kind:

My floral bouquet will have to wait for another night. But I will say this…I am ridiculous about flowers. I adore them. I love them so much that I was gasping as I downloaded them, and I felt like crying. I know — I know! I am a sap. I look at a flower and see an amazing gift, almost too beautiful to behold. And fleeting, of course — which makes me all the more adamant about cherishing them while they’re here.

Perhaps there’s something deeper at work. Perhaps that’s the reason for my emotions upon seeing flowers blooming in my back yard. We, too, are here for but a short time. Will we spend our days in bloom, faces towards the sun, or in some dark corner, wilting away? And how rich is the soil in which we grow? And if it’s lacking, how will we make it more life-giving?

The little distraction in the front yard provided an even bigger lesson tonight. These deeper moments are important and profound and we need to grasp them when they come to us. I was fully there tonight among the flowers. But then it was time to pull away from all that beauty and watch my kids’ excitement at an unexpected treat. We roll with what life offers and savor as much of it as we can when the gifts come.

Speaking of gifts, I’m looking forward to the gift of friendship tomorrow night when the Area Voices bloggers come together, many for the first time ever, to meet our fellow writing/reading comrades. A few other bloggers have written about it already, so I’ll save myself the time and link to their announcement posts: Prairie Woman, Far Side of Fifty, Buffalo Gal. If it’s not too late and you’re in the area, come join us in the shelter at Lindenwood. If you come early enough, you might even have a chance to taste my rhubarb crisp. (Pressure’s on me now!)