Watching the Raindrops

I love the occasional rainy afternoon.  Such was the weather a week ago Sunday, when the rain fell gently, my partially read book beckoned me and I found myself sitting in our sun porch, rocking, reading and watching the raindrops.  With the windows open, the cool breezes wafted in.  It was glorious!  Rainy days are peaceful.  They quiet me down and cause me to rest, relax and reflect.  If I had my druthers, the sun would shine nearly all of the time and the temperatures would be a moderate 75 degrees, for I love to be out and about, getting my energy from interactions with others.  However, a balance is needed and rainy days help provide that balance for me.  So, I sat and watched the rain nourish the soil, the trees and the plants and I allowed it to nourish me, as well, in the quiet of my rocking chair a rainy Sunday afternoon.

Daddy's Girl

I was always very close to my mom, but I had the good fortune of being equally as close to my dad.  Unfortunately, I didn't have the opportunity to enjoy as many years with Dad as I did with Mom.  Twenty-nine years ago today, my father passed away at the young age of 65 from cardiac failure.  Today, my thoughts go to Dad and the many wonderful memories I had with him.  He always offered great advice, but only when asked.  He wasn't the kind to assert himself and give unsolicited suggestions.  I found myself going to him often, for his guidance was sound and his words measured and wise.  My favorite adult memories of my dad were the times when he and I would go on father-daughter dates.  It was during a time when my maternal grandparents' health was failing and Mom would travel as her work schedule permitted to support my grandparents and my aunt.  When Dad and I were left to our own devices, we'd invariably schedule one evening just for the two of us.  We'd go out for dinner somewhere in Wisconsin Dells, walk around the downtown and then take in a musical show at Chula Vista Resort.  To this day, I can recall those special evenings being Daddy's Girl, just one more time.

Rock and Soul

I read in the newspaper yesterday about someone being celebrated as being the rock and the soul of her family.  I got to thinking about what it means to be the rock and soul of another person's life and what a wonderful tribute it is to pay to someone.  Our lives are fleeting and fragile.  As I grow older, I am spending more time contemplating my own life and how I can use it to the best of my ability to enrich the lives of others. I believe we are all called to some kind of passion and purpose that drive us to do good works, regardless of our circumstances or whether those good works feel large or small to us. To me, being someone's rock means that you are present to him or her, someone to count on in the good and not-so-good times.  To be the soul suggests to me that we express ourselves with caring, kindness, gratitude and inclusion so that all in our midst feel loved, valued and appreciated.  What better tribute to give someone than to say that person is the rock and soul.  Something to which we can all aspire.

I Love a Parade

I love a parade, especially when it's a small-town parade that celebrates the community and the people who live in it.  Such was the case yesterday when Baraboo celebrated its rich and unique circus heritage with an all-day Circus Celebration and 1st Annual Baraboo Big Top Parade in our picturesque downtown.  Despite the record-breaking low high temperature that barely broke into the 60s, the wind that looked as if it might bring sprinkles with it, and the overcast skies, the crowds were not deterred.  All of the hard work of my fellow event organizers paid off, for thousands of people donned winter jackets, hats and gloves and headed for our downtown anyway. Some of them brought their lawn chairs and blankets with them, while others had staked out their parade-viewing territory the night before. A year ago at this time, we were suffering from prolonged, unbearable heat and drought that threatened the crops.  This year, we were more concerned about having icicles form from our noses.  Yet, the show went on.  The parade of over 70 units included antique circus wagons from Circus World Museum, horses, an elephant, stilt walkers and clowns.  The parade also included community entries created by area businesses, nonprofit groups and youth organizations, as well as a host of contemporary convertibles and classic cars dating all the way back to 1916 that carried local circus celebrities.  The Circus Celebration throughout our downtown square featured everything from tours of historic circus facilities, activities for children and music of all kinds including from a circus calliope, to the screening of a circus documentary, an antique fair and stores offering sidewalk sales. Baraboo has many things for which to be proud.  Yesterday was a fine example of that community pride as we celebrated all things circus.  As they say in the industry (and make sure to say it aloud with the gusto of a ringmaster)...May all your days be circus days!

Heavenly

The air was still, the sweat pouring off of everyone, but there I sat in an open building with no air conditioning with a smile on my face.  While waiting to speak to a group of people, I watched the view through a nearby open door and saw the loveliest scene of oak trees towering over freshly mown grass, the atmosphere dappled with a little bit of sun and the songs of birds.  The view through that door was a little bit of heaven to me.  If it hadn't been so terribly warm and had I not wanted to get home to return a phone call in the comfort of the air conditioning, I would have been tempted to walk through that door into that little bit of heaven, just to soak it up deep, deep into my memory.  As it was, I glanced over my shoulder one more time as I exited the opposite way, grateful that despite the oppressive heat, I had been given the opportunity to sit in the stillness long enough to see something so beautiful and memorable that it quieted my mind, cooled my body and gave me a sense of being very close to heaven.

Queen Anne and Lily

The ladies are blooming in the fields these days.  Queen Anne's Lace, in all of its delicate, white finery and wild tiger lilies, wearing vibrant orange attire, dot the landscape, especially along rural roadways.  You always know when it's July in Wisconsin, for these two lovely ladies, Queen Anne and Lily, start to bloom and they keep blooming through the entire month.  We're now reaching the end of July and they are still looking regal and elegant, swaying in the slight summer breezes, still bringing color and unexpected beauty to verdant roadway ditches.  As I say so often, I'm grateful to live on the edge of town where I get the best of both worlds -- a little bit of community and a little bit of country where I can readily see Queen Anne and Lily any July day.

Weapons of Beauty and Kindness

I heard a radio interview recently about the late writer David Rakoff.  One of the people on the program referred to Rakoff's perspective about the tragedies and injustices of life and how the only "weapons" to combat them are beauty and kindness.  Beauty and Kindness.  I'd never thought of them before as weapons, but it was interesting to hear those words strung together.  For the past year or more, I have been focusing a lot on thoughts about kindness.  As I grow older, I feel that being kind is more and more important to me. If I'm not kind, then what am I?  What better way to live life than to be kind?  Or to see the beauty in things?  And what better way to disarm and defeat tragedy and injustice than to find every opportunity to be kind.  As the sign says in the yard by which I walk occasionally, kindness matters.  What kindnesses will I show today?  How will I live the words attributed to Plato:  "Be kind, for everyone is fighting a hard battle."?