From across the grassy yard, I can hear their voices rising and chopping through thick, springtime air. They ring out and giggle and yell a sudden remonstrance. In short, they play. I am at the kitchen counter, though, clearing a space for a cutting board and pile of vegetables. I do not see them playing. It's only their noise that breaks through, in waves, breaking against my ankles and eddying around my heart.
The vegetables before me begin to look like grassy fields and dewy leaves. I lay down my knife and peek through the window, distracted.
Mia is hopping through the sunlight, slicing it with her arms into shreds of warm wind. She kneels down and the grassy weeds envelop her legs. She inspects something hidden, and jumps when it escapes.
"Butterfly! It's a butterfly! C'mere, butterfly-- I'm gonna catch ya!" She darts erratically, mirroring her object perfectly. She leaps and I click a snapshot in my mind: legs dangling, arms stretched, hands open, hair cascading. White light pierces the spaces between floating strands and long limbs. It is the picture of spring, I think. The picture of something bursting with life.
In motion again, she follows the butterfly to the back fence, where a billowing bush has exploded with delicate, white flowers. The bush has only just come alive with color in the past few days, and I can already see its future in my mind: yellowing, then browning blossoms, giving way to hard, green berries. It will ramble and encroach, but the flowers won't come back again for another year. They are only momentary. They are only right now.
Mia stops-- the butterfly has lit upon a heap of blossoms and I imagine it pulsing its wings in the softest of rhythms, effortlessly.
I glance back at my counter and knife, abandoned, and feel no remorse. I wipe my hands on my thighs. I open the patio door, and step into the buzzing air.
I breathe in the heavy scent of flowers and humidity and life, and I join them before the blooming can fade away.
We're seeing the Bigger Picture through simple moments -- moments that force us to stop and take notice of the ways our worlds are important, meaningful, and beautiful. Please join us at Melissa's place today! Grab the button, link up, and read a few others to encourage them as they find the fullness in the simple.