This day was a busy one like so many others around these parts.
It began early and is evidently ending late. I guess it is the way of now for us with three teens. Clara had to be at the theatre first thing this morning for a performance and Lucas and I headed out of town to pick up a used pedal for one of his guitars before band practice early this aft. Errands, tidying, a late afternoon pizza party for two sweet little nieces we don't see often enough just to name off a few of the items on today's agenda. Busyness indeed, yet so much of it resides in passion and beauty that I must quietly bow to the wonder of this time in our family life.
And so after a long day, at nine thirty this eve one of my sisters popped by with her eldest as well as a friend--all visiting from Seattle. They only wanted to stop in for a quick hug on the way home from the grocery store--because--well, our lights were still on and they could. Such possibilities do not avail themselves for much of the year due to living an entire continent apart.
I was making tea for myself to unwind and have some personal quiet before sleep and invited them in to share a cup. They were only here for a few minutes, and all of us tired, so we visited in the kitchen for a short chat.
Upon their leaving shortly thereafter I invited them to look at our south facing flower and vegetable garden- at night, my absolute favourite time to be in it. There is something about the cool darkness that lends itself to a lingering that the daytime heat does not afford.
Late last night I sat for a while under the eave as the brief, cooling rain provided some respite from the desperate, record breaking swelter of yesterday. I sat there with a strange sense of calm and dis-comfort both; grateful for the coolness and praying that the rains be kind to our tomatoes. Summer rains do that to gardeners.
My garden guests this evening marveled at the recent growth; the towering hollyhocks, the plate sized seed heads of dill, the sunflower faces just inviting an embrace, and at my urging they pinched off herbs to breathe in as aromatherapy--mint, basil, thyme.
And just as they were taking leave my daughter Maria excitedly announced the wondrous, almost miraculous, sighting of two bats above the garden swooping overhead towards the roof and the treetops behind our house.
"Bats, Maria gasped, bats!?"
But there they were doing their nighttime acrobatics as only they can.
Swoop, swivel, dive...Aah!
Funny I haven't seen them before now. Perhaps they have just returned or I missed them on another night of less attention.
It's been so long dear bats....welcome, welcome back!
How fortunate to be twice graced by unexpected visitors this night.
Gratefully,
Jill
God bless you, Jill, for your wonderful perspective on life. ma