The other day, I was stranded in a small town just waiting for William to finish up an exam, pack his dorm room, and summon me to drive him home. I had work to do. I had books to read. But I also had an unexpected few hours in the late afternoon, when I’m usually driving carpool. I’m not much of a wanderer by nature, but I decided to wander. I happened upon an old rail trail, and I was given a few minutes to soak in the expanse of blue sky and the abundance of purple and white phlox. And it all reminded me of the truth of all the wise people who have gone before me and encouraged me to stay present to this moment and wonder at the gift of it all.

I feel the same when the flowers in late May and early June startle me with their intense beauty every single time. As it happens, I inherited a beautiful flower garden that I neither planted nor nurtured, and yet I am the recipient of its beauty for months on end.

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