Cherry Blossoms, A Turtle, and Two Fortune Cookies
Do You Take Time To Look At The Trees?
I am sitting here thinking about life. About how we sometimes don't take a breath to experience its nuances.
At one time, I lived in Tampa, Florida. Even in this large city, there were many moments in each day I captured, made into memories.
I moved to a small town in Northwest Florida nearly three years ago, just near Destin and Ft. Walton Beach, and for the most part I've looked sometimes at the town I reside in as being boring, boring, and more boring. I realize how so narrow minded I've been.
Where did I stop thinking outside the box?
When did I stop seeing life as beautiful no matter what location I happened to find myself in?
As I think about life, sitting here in my chair by the window, I realize I've captured many memories, memories that will last a lifetime.
A few days back, I picked my son up from school, as I sometimes do. Before I stepped under the awning which shades the classrooms, a Cherry Blossom tree's branches began to sway for the wind that blew through them. I looked up at it, squinting a bit as the bright sunshine was behind me. As my eyes took in the tree in all its wonder, Cherry Blossom florets began to feather down to the ground, almost like snow. There was only one time before that I'd seen such beauty. I was on the way to work in Tampa and I saw a most awesome tree with purple flowers. I wondered about it's name. I later learned this type tree with purple flowers is the Jacaranda tree.
It made me happy to see those florets falling. If I'd thought of it, I would have raised my arms, my palms facing upward towards the sky, and challenged myself to catch just one of those beautiful snow-like florets. Yet, it was a passing moment, and the beauty held my gaze.
A more amusing memory is the day I saw a turtle in the road near the church here in town. I am not big on reptiles due to El Coqui, the Spanish Flying Frog. (Now, I don't know if it is Spanish, but it was living in Puerto Rico while I was a kid there so hence that is the name I gave it.)
There I was traveling a less traveled road after taking my boy to school and I drive over a small object in the road. Afraid I might have run over it, I stop, look back at it, well best as I can as I don't have my glasses on. I see in my rear view mirror that this small object is moving. Slowly, I back up; you can do that in this town for the roads are barely congested by cars. I see a small, brownish-red turtle scurrying across the road.
Now the night before, I'd read the 'Tortoise and the Hare' to my boy at bedtime. For years, I'd been under the impression the tortoise was so slow moving. Yet, here was a little turtle in the street moving faster than I would have thought. As I sat in my car acting as gaurdian to the little thing, it traveled in a straight line steadily to the grass, which looked quite inviting. When I felt it would reach the green grass's edge safely and no one would run it over, I drove on, happy I'd helped it in its time of need!.
I know, what did I really do, you might ask. But I was there for it, down to ensuring it got to the grass safely. If that's not a memory, I don't know what is.
Last But Not Least, Two Fortune Cookies . . .
Today, around 6:30, p.m., my son and I went to dinner. We had a few places to stop, and then made our way to Nim's Garden for beloved Chinese food. When we had eaten our fill, the waitress brought the bill and two fortune cookies. I let my son have both of them; I don't like to eat them at all. He likes opening and eating the outer shell.
Well, he broke the first one in half, popped a piece of the cookie in his mouth, and gave me the fortune to read.
It read: 'Focus On The Color Purple This Week To Bring You Luck.'
That was astounding, for what's my favorite color?
Luck of the Irish, it's purple to say the least! It floored me to read the latter fortune. Not only that, but my son picked it up first and gave it to me. A sign? I think so. Definitely a memorable moment.
Dinner over, we got back in the car with home as our destination. The windows were down, and we were happyily talking. I felt the cool air on my skin, my face, my arm, as I stretched it out of the car window. It felt so good. We'd had so much hot weather the past month and it just felt good, that cool air.
The road we drve down to get home is a special route to us. It goes past the the town's only local cemetery. There is a dip in the road just a few feet away from the hardware store and as your car goes over it, you feel like you're on a roller coaster.
"Go FAST!" my boy will say in his childish authority.
I protest and tell him I can't, that I have to follow the rules of the road. Secretly, I speed up just a tad and over the dip we go! It is an instant rush for us, making us laugh as endorphins rush into our bodies from the thrill.
It's the best fun we have, come to think of it. Just kidding! Yet it is definitely one more memory for the taking.
Sharing these memories, I must acknowledge this small 'boring' town, as I've often called it, is one in which I've begun to make memories.
It is a small town that has its own beautiful verves. I am open to learning about them, open to experiencing more. I am willing to make more memories here.
I have to, for I intend to raise my son here.
Here in this small town where there is always a festival, always a friendly smile, always a feeling of being at home without a care to rush ~ ~ ~ anywhere
Copyright © 2011 Satice James, All Rights Reserved