Three Simple Things

It came to me in a captured moment beside the creek, with the early morning around me, a bowl of granola in one hand, and a spoon in the other. As I spooned from my breakfast bowl, I found myself looking at the empty firepit in front of me - looking at it, but not really seeing it at first. When I settled, and my thoughts settled, and my eyes finally settled on what they were seeing, I realized that we'd not yet built a fire in the firepit this spring. Then I realized we'd not yet lit the lights over the picnic terrace, either - things that are as much about warm-season weather as the columbine blooming crazy in the nearby beds.

Spring and summer seasons go so quickly. Like most things that we think will last, they're gone in a blink, and we wonder where the time went, where the moments went. We wonder what, exactly, we were doing so busy that kept us from the things that matter in the season, the things that we'd hang in our memory as portraits of spring-time nights and summer-time days.

Every summer hosts the big moments - the road trips, the house guests, the camping excursions, but it was the small moments that got me wondering, the fleeting slips of time that hooked my attention. Because there's as much essence of summer hidden in these as in the big events, and maybe even more.

I crunched through pecans and almonds, rolled oats and sunflower seeds, and thought about this. Pondered. Wondered about simple solutions. And I decided this: I would choose three summer-living things that I would make a point to include in my days. Four, five, and six things vied for a spot, but I decided on only three, because I wanted the doing of them to become a habit, and I wanted this to be successful.

By the last spoonful of almond milk with floating sesame seeds, I'd settled on evening fires in the fire pit, dinners under the terrace lights, and knitting by the creek.

How about you? What would be your three simple things?