There is one huge advantage from receiving catalogs from every (or almost every) vendor in the United States.
On relatively nice days, I have made it a practice sit on my porch swing to sort through my mail. The catalogs and bills arrive sometime between 3 and 6 p.m. depending on postal personnel rotation.
Catalogs not only help keep the U.S. postal system in business and its carriers employed, they also give me an excuse to linger longer in/on my swing.
At that time of day most everything slows down. Until you look up. Sit still and notice the hundreds of insects, mostly tiny, helicopter-ing in the air. For the most part, they do not harm or otherwise bother our species. Indeed, some (probably most, I’m not an entomologist) enhance our lives either by pollinating fruits and flowers or adding beauty to our lives.
All we have to do is notice them.
Before I trimmed back my spirea shrubs, I watched chubby bumble bees roll over their blossoms, probably delighting in their pollen.
Recently, small beautiful butterflies – ‘painted ladies’ I think --settle on remaining flowers.
There’s always something wondrous. Migrating birds of various dimensions skimming the sky.
Not my smart phone.
Just look.
On arrival at my home, the birthday balloon sat in the kitchen, tied to the wrist of a small teddy bear.
It soon escaped and, for a week, bounced around the kitchen ceiling, greeting me from a different angle each morning. Making me smile.
Somehow it wandered into the living room in time to subtly greet my guests on the first day of September.
When I came downstairs on Sept. 2, I couldn’t see the balloon. It couldn’t have just disintegrated, could it? No.
Later, I was sitting where one sits in the upstairs bathroom. Something peeked from the stall shower. Guess what?
After that, it wandered into the study. Then mysteriously, it was gone again; this time into my bedroom, eventually settling in the bedroom window.
My cat Herbie sometimes noticed our visitor. Once, the balloon bounced around in front of him trailing a small piece of white ribbon. He swiped at it a couple of times but gave up when the balloon floated up toward the ceiling. [Herbie is an old cat.]
For a while, the balloon hovered near the floor and I thought it was on its last non-legs. But it has been a month! It is still sort of viable.
It cannot last much longer but it has been a good friend. And a great present.
Posts
