There is so much to think about this spring.
Most thoughts are about the quotidian. The garden. Spring cleaning. What to wear when the temperature fluctuates so much.
There are also big things afoot, like graduations, trips, and new babies. The joys of life are what I try to focus on. Yet without contrast, joy itself dulls.
One can, but this woman does not, live from one celebration to the next. I crave reading the newspapers, studying the history of World War II, and contemplating the broader history of human civilization.
It is a choice to ignore the distressing or dangerous things in life, to simply exist in the day-to-day. But serious people are called to reflect, too, upon the passage of time — as convocations, births and deaths help us do — and to use what we learn to shine a light toward a better path than the one that is unfolding before us.
Peppering my life with unserious things helps me balance myself, however. I highly recommend unserious things as a condiment.
Just not as a regular diet.
For example, I still wonder how a couple I spotted at a popular restaurant in The South decided that taking their gigantic Maine Coon cat out with them was a great idea! When I spotted this feline draped across his furless mother’s shoulder, his legs dangling below her waist, I sprang into action with my camera.
I took a photo that delights me still.
Another question I have is why our backyard robin couple opted to build a nest on our second floor porch — on top of the fan mechanics. It cannot be easy to wedge in there, yet they are busy now doing just that, as their little brood has hatched. How this will impact the fledglings’ flights out of the nest is definitely dicey, and whether the parent birds learn from their folly is anyone’s guess.
Choices large and small have consequences.
Deep thinking helps. ©
