Yesterday I spent a bit of time at the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum. I met one of my college roommates (wow, my college years were a long time ago!) for lunch outside at the Arboretum cafe. This was the first time I’ve eaten out since before the pandemic!
We took a short walk together after lunch through the Japanese garden and the hosta gardens. It was a shady delight.
Simple Joy
The weather was a bit cooler yesterday with less humidity and walking on the shady paths was simply beautiful and joyful. Sitting and talking with my old friend was also a simple joy.
Are the roses not also—even as the owl is—excessive? Each flower is small and lovely, but in their sheer and silent abundance the roses become an immutable force, as though the work of the wild roses was to make sure that all of us, who come wandering over the sand, may be, for a while, struck to the heart and saturated with a simple joy.
― Owls and Other Fantasies: Poems and Essays
As I gazed around at all of the shades of green and bright bursts of color of flowers blooming here and there I thought about all of the people who work so hard to keep this place beautiful. We are so fortunate to have places like this and wild places in which to wander.
This morning on my walk in the neighborhood I caught the soft sweet scent of basswood trees in bloom. Another simple joy to light up my day.
To pay attention to my blessings and the beauty of the world—this is my work.
Yes! No! How necessary it is to have opinions! I think the spotted trout lilies are satisfied, standing a few inches above the earth. I think serenity is not something you just find in the world, like a plum tree, holding up its white petals. The violets, along the river, are opening their blue faces, like small dark lanterns. The green mosses, being so many, are as good as brawny. How important it is to walk along, not in haste but slowly, looking at everything and calling out Yes! No! The swan, for all his pomp, his robes of glass and petals, wants only to be allowed to live on the nameless pond. The catbrier is without fault. The water thrushes, down among the sloppy rocks, are going crazy with happiness. Imagination is better than a sharp instrument. To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.”
― Owls and Other Fantasies: Poems and Essays
What simple joy are you finding today?
May you walk in beauty.
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