Now that we’ve waved goodbye to yet another weekend, only one stands between us and Autumn.
Hopefully you’re soaking it all in. I know I am.
And last weekend provided the perfect backdrop: blue skies, sunshine, and a hint of cool in the air. Despite the fact that I snapped nary a photo, it was some good times–long walks, time spent with friends, laughing, muching. I even got stuff done. It was amazing.
I also meandered about at Art in the Park on Saturday. Julia Davis, alive with tents of white, housed myriad treasures–french milled soap, glass earrings, bronze bracelets … the artwork of Ward Hooper. People clutched treasures in one hand, corndogs in the other; pups awaited the chance to steal a snack, kids ran circles and laughed.
And flags flew at half mast.
You know, it’s funny, but I don’t recall sunshine on that September 11th, years ago. I’m sure it was present, but I don’t remember it. I recall only darkness.
Yet nine years later, as I sat on a bench in a rose garden, the sun did shine. And I soaked it in as I looked about to see people of all ages, all backgrounds and ethnic groups, spending time with loved ones, in one place, together.
I hope we never forget that fateful day–I hope we learn from the bad, and keep the good. Because there was good. As so often happens in times of tragedy, people came together–the whole world through. For one moment in time, we were the same.
Oh that we would learn to live this way, each and every day…