Working and sweating all weekend she went into work to find the air conditioning not working. She laughed and wished she had the sun on her instead of being inside. It was hard to make the transition after being outdoors a weekend. She went out for lunch and realized just how stuffy it was indoors. When others complained she just told them it was a complimentary tropical vacation and wished she had some shorts to wear. The day went too slow for her to get back to all the babies she had planted around her yard. A few new blooms were waiting at her door for her when she finally finished her hot and dreary day.
Walking that evening she saw a flit of a tiny warbler in the trees nearby. She was standing on a trail and told the bird to come over to her. A grandmother walking with a grandchild wondered what she wanted her for, but moved near to her. The female flew into sight and the colorful male remained hidden. When she got home she looked it up and called her birding friend to tell of recent finds. Looking at the wrong number she called another friend instead. He answered rather startled since they didn’t talk very often She laughed at her folly and asked how he had been. He told her he had taken a rather extensive vacation, but had came home to find his mother ill. Knowing she was quite a bit older than her parents were she expressed hope for quick recovery in a rather shaky voice. It was strange to have this emotion happen, but it sometimes is hard to avoid. He asked what she said and she responded in much better composure. There seems to be a time in our lives when we see friends who have grandparents passing. Then with age it is their parents and or siblings. A sign of age, she thought, but it affected her different always. Perhaps a tear bestowed a simple thought of love and compassion for the individual and their family.
She got out a box of photos and sorted through to see if she had any of her friend and his mother. The box was a plethora of memories as she sorted through the layers. It was a box of pictures her grandmother had given her, going through her lifetime collection of pictures. It might have worked better if they had written on them or categorized them better. Each time she wished she had placed them in an album, but it never got finished. When she was a teen, she made a scrapbook of her life and this was the first time her grandmother had showed her these treasures. She helped her pick a few to use and told her these all would be hers some day. It would have been better to have placed them in an album then, in the tiny corner holders she had used for her pictures. It would have been a start, because since she had them her collection had now doubled. Layers of lifetimes and many fond memories recorded. She laughed at three of the same picture still on the sheet they came from school on. Next were some of her son and she set them aside, she had started another box of just him. Going through she almost forgot what she was looking for, and soon found one photo of her friend at a party she had for the holidays years back. She put it with a card and mailed it to him. Calling a few weeks later she was glad to hear of better health plus the joy extended with the picture she had sent.
Walking into a marsh the rain beat a steady pattern on her hat. It was new area to explore and she knew she would come back on a sunnier day. Each bird seemed to bestow a greeting and shared with her the happiness of this beautiful wetland. Rounding a bend she came upon a coyote, perhaps looking for a cool drink. It stood and looked at her before turning and running back up the trail. She watched it’s tracks and saw how it fled in a different direction and was soon only a memory. New blooms nodded at her as she walked along enjoying all of the new scenery. A small duck scuttled off ahead of her before she could identify what kind it was. Off in the distance a small group stayed ahead of her softly walking along the wet trail. Looking on she approached this group again and was amazed that they were Sandhill Cranes. She stopped at a conservation station and confirmed her sighting. This was a good birding area the attendant said. When a Rusty Blackbird was sighted he said the cars were seven deep. She looked back at the road she had tried to drive deeper into the area on and decided it was best just to walk in least risk getting her car stuck in the middle of nowhere. Later in the year she would give this drive another test and hoped to become a regular visitor in this area. A stop on the way home topped her day with a Key Lime yogurt in a cone. She smiled and relived this valuable journey as she made here way homeward.