The dampness seeps through my cotton joggers. I don't realize it's raining until I sit on the patio chair, its cushion cool and moist.
It’s not rain, but a soft mist so fine it looks like fluctuating pixels on a grainy live photograph. Constantly moving, shifting, changing.
There must be fifty shades of green in the thicket of woods behind my house. Those early Spring greens. Fresh, young, budding baby leaves, lapping the nourishment of the dew. Wondering if it's the appetizer or the dessert. Finding strength in the anticipation.
The wild daisies and lacy purple tansies carpet the yard's floor nearby. They appear to stand on their tiptoes with their faces prone as they capture the tiny moist droplets in their mouths. They seem at ease like there's enough to go around. Seems a fitting personality trait for wildflowers.
The mist hits my face. I breathe it in. Best facial ever.
The gentle nuances of this unfolding afternoon got me thinking about the importance of moments. Details of moments, in moments. How noticing these small matters add to the simplicities and complexities of a day in the life.
When you’re paying attention.
Something to think about.