I walked out the front door the other day after a rather heavy rain and windstorm and this is what I saw. The beautiful Japanese Maple tree had been torn of all its beautiful red leaves. A thick carpet of red covered the front lawn. The golden leaves of the other trees mixed in and surrounded it like decorative edging. Someone else might have looked at this scene and groaned at the amount of work it was going to take to clean it all up. I thought it was beautiful. I stopped to take this picture and thought to myself: "this red carpet is more beautiful than any celebrity red carpet in Hollywood. Right now, I feel like I've been given an award."
As we move closer to Thanksgiving next week, I have been taking time out to count my blessings, both big and small. I am grateful that I just passed the one-year mark of moving into my "tiny house" apartment. I am grateful that I got to plant my first real outdoor garden in years and experienced the joy of picking a luscious, ripe grape tomato and popping it in my mouth. I am grateful for my family, my church family, my friends, the family dog who guards me like the Queen, reasonably good health, access to healthy food, warm clothes, and so much more. While these are all wonderful reasons to be grateful, I have found that making time to "just be," has reminded me of so many more blessings that are all around me: porch sitting, watching the local wildlife, the sound of the train as it rumbles by, the first buds on the trees and the last leaves to fall ... and red carpets. I have discovered this year that my wealth isn't in money or things. It is in the tiny moments that remind me of what God and Mother Nature can do when they put their heads together - they create a heaven right here on earth. As long as I can wake up in the morning, watch the sunrise, hear the birds, and witness the world come alive, I am richly and deeply blessed.
To each and every one of you I wish a wonderful, bountiful Thanksgiving. May it be filled with love, family, good food, and the gift of being able to look out of the window to remember what it means to be grateful to be alive.
And so it is.
