When does a moment become a MOMENT?  What causes the mind or spirit to rise to the occasion, and say or do something that makes the moment an event, something grander than the ordinary?  I can think of a few times in my life when this has happened, and I’m thankful that I realized it was happening, and I experienced and appreciated that it had happened.

 

When Johnny and I were in our 30’s, and had actually reached the time in our life when we had some money, we made some purchases that exceeded what I had always thought of as “financially appropriate” for what we had bought.  We became interested in art, and began purchasing some original paintings.  We fell in love with an oil painting of yellow daisies in a field, and paid $2200 for it.  Whoa!!  My financial sensibilities were stunned, but we could afford it.  Other paintings followed, most cost less, but a couple, more.   We loved the artwork we purchased, and were enriched by it.  But I never talked about how much we paid for them.

Well, we took a trip to California a few years later, and on this trip discovered an artist whose work we were captivated by.  But his paintings were in the $6000 area, a bit staggering for me.  One painting we really loved, and the gallery was willing to ship it to us so we could see it in our house.  I even looked into getting a loan for it!   

After we returned to Baton Rouge, we had dinner at my parents', with my sister Jill and her two kids, Garrett and Collette, ages 12 and 7.   PaPaw, my mother’s father, was also there.  As we sat around the table eating supper, Johnny and I shared some of our trip stories.  The conversation came around to the painting, and after describing it a bit, I even mentioned the price.  And I decided to go out on a limb.  I said, “I know most people don’t understand how we can spend that much money on a painting….,” and just sort of trailed off. 

After a moment, my mother said, “I admit, I don’t,” followed by Papaw, Jill, until the nays were all around me.  Then everybody was quiet.   Inwardly I felt the limb breaking, and I was going to crash into I knew not what, when, from the end of the table, Collette looked up from her macaroni and cheese and said “I could see it.”

The rest of the family laughed, I guess, because she was only 7 years old, but I knew, she could see it.  And I knew that I had been given a blessing in that response.  We ended up not buying that painting, because $6,000 was a crazy amount for us, but I loved that moment at dinner.  I doubt anyone else there remembers it, but I remember it.

 

My Feathery Friend

Over the Christmas holidays, Johnny and I spent a week at Pensacola Beach.  One morning I woke early, and thought, I’ll go out and see the sunrise.  We’d had a stunning sunset the night before, and maybe this sunrise would also be beautiful.  I made coffee, bundled myself up to handle the 35 degree windy weather and headed out to the beach.  I crossed the boardwalk and stepped out on the sand; the sky was still dark and cloudy, and the beach empty.   Sitting on the cold sand was out of the question, so I stood near the boardwalk to get a break from the wind.  A bit of white peeked out from the clouds on the horizon, catching on the break of the waves.

As I stood, waiting and watching, something caught my eye about 100 feet away, moving in the darkness near one of the farther boardwalks.   Slowly, a blue heron moved out into the open area in front of the boardwalk, his head tucked close to his body for warmth.   I was glad for his company, feeling the loneliness of the empty beach.  The heron flew down to the surf in front of me, mingling with a few sandpipers.  Then, he turned and started walking toward me, in his slow, stalking gait.  I froze, wondering, what’s he going to do?  Is he going to fly at me, peck me?  Beat me with his wings?  I resolved myself to accept whatever it was; it would simply be part of the experience.  But he stopped about 10 feet from me near my boardwalk, checking me out sideways with his yellow eyes.  I just stayed where I was, occasionally taking a sip of my coffee, looking back at him sideways.

The sunrise was a bit iffy.  The sky was only showing hints of white among the clouds, and my thin pants were no match for the winter wind.  I took another sip.  The heron flew down to the water’s edge, and walked out into the surf, poking around with his long beak.   Still, no one else had come out to the beach.

 

Suddenly, the heron stepped out of the water and again headed straight for me.  Uh oh, I thought, here it comes, the attack.  But the heron slowly passed right in front of me, stopping about 5 feet from me next to the boardwalk.  He turned, and faced out to the water.  I watched him, his long feathers blowing in the wind, his head tucked close to his body.  And he just stayed.  Every now and then, I’d look over and he’d catch my eye.  Or, at least, that’s what it looked like.  Minutes passed and we watched, the wind blowing, waves splashing, the morning light growing.  We stood together, companionably watching the sunrise, just the two of us.  I was really cold, but there was no way I was moving as long as he stayed. 

After about 15 minutes, the heron slowing stalked off, I guess to find some breakfast.  I watched him go, and, shortly after, went inside for my own breakfast.  I felt so blessed!  I will always be thankful he chose to join me for the sunrise that morning.  

Kitten or Lion?

 

This tickled me so much I just had to post it. 

I've seen so many interpretations of it that I'll just

let you make your own.