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Rise...

The weekly reckoning...
1598. A walk downtown with Brooklyn and Tobin, and the rain holding off until we got back to the car
1599. Finishing rearranging before company came
1600. A glorious thunder storm 
1601. Three real notes in the mail
1602. Having help with the grocery shopping (so much easier not just-us-three)
1603. Managing to replicate Adam's stir fry, since he worked late and wasn't there to make it
1604. Brooklyn bravely getting through church, lunch out, and an evening baby dedication having gotten up early and with no nap
1605. Adam's parents and grandma being able to come for the day
1606. A family photo, all four together (we don't even have a decent pic of all-three-together, preTobin, so this was exciting)
1607. Car tripping to Fayetteville not just-us-three
1608. Brooklyn cautiously exploring nature at a rest stop
__________

1609. Watching the fireflies rise, while sitting on the back porch talking to Adam

I was a frog-catching butterfly-chasing kid. I dug holes (after acquiring a permit from my Dad, which included the agreement that any holes I dug would be well marked and filled in before mowing day) and got up at 2am with my Mum to watch a lunar eclipse (and eat popcorn, because why not?)

Laying on my back on a trampoline in the summer, I'd watch the bats whirl while I waited for the stars to come out - and the fireflies. Their slowly strobing migration from grass to sky has always been my favorite part of summer.

They start in that undecided time between evening and night, creeping earth-born up the blades of grass, like tiny fallen stars. My grandparents have a huge old oak tree, twice-lightning-struck but still strong, under whose shadow they seem to rise the thickest. I'd scamper from point to point, chasing elusive Will O' the Wisps, until one finally landed in my grasp. I've never had the heart to fill a jar - I open my hand and wait breathlessly til they blink, then hold them up to speed their journey to join Cassiopeia and Orion.

There's a sort of peace, I've found, in watching them drift upward like fragile prayers. It's a reminder of an infinitely creative Creator, who made both stars and lightning bugs, who made and cares for me.
__________
 
1610. Visiting with knitters
1611. That people still care about fountain pens
1612. Walking around my favorite part of Fayetteville - 'twas the perfect sort of day for it 
1613. Mum helping Brooklyn with her breakfast while I was stuck with Tobin
1614. A lovely visit with my sister-in-law and niece
1615. Local coffee with a drive thru, and the subsequent Onyx Delight
1616. A good morning at Adam's parents'
1617. Tobin's sweetly sociable nature
1618. Painting With a Twist with Carolyn - so much fun!


Combining One Thousand Gifts with Five Minute Friday - every week, a flashmob of bloggers gathers, internet-wide, to write for five minutes (no stopping, no editing!) on a prompt provided by sweet Kate, then links up and shares a little comment love. For more posts, more info, and/or to join in, head here!

Comments

Cheryl Simpson said…
I love your combination of thankful thoughts and FMF.
I enjoy your lyrical writing and am brought right into the beauty of a night filled with the wonder of fireflies and a beautiful sky. It is truly amazing how the Creator made nature so small and big and wonderful. I hope to soak in some of that awesomeness this summer.

I'm glad I got to visit from FMF.

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