Tonight there's a tiny slice of moon, and locusts droning, and a cool breeze. Lightning bugs, the fragrance of someone's newly mown grass, phone calls and visits from people I love.
Babies and toddlers exploring the world. Five-year olds, excited about starting school, and high-schoolers excited about finishing up yet one more stage of their education. Eight-year olds excited about ball games and swimming; and eleven-year olds poised at the edge of childhood. Grandmothers excited about seeing the newest baby in the family, and a brother who's just become a grandfather for the first time. Weddings and other adventures. Love everywhere I look.
Fresh tomatoes, fresh melons, fresh sweetcorn.
All kinds of good music: Beach Boys. Vivaldi. Brooks and Dunne. Corelli. Thelonius Monk. Trisha Yearwood. Ella, Tony, and Frank. Bach.
Tiny, lacy ferns embroider the shady corners of our garden, and yellow self-seeded snapdragons bring a hint of sunshine to the front of the flower border. The hostas are starting to bloom, purple and white stalks of delicate flowers.
Good books: My Life in France, by Julia Child. Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. The Good Book itself.
And tomorrow's Sunday, with worship, and good singing, friends and fellowship.
It really doesn't take all that much to be rich, and yet, we are rich beyond measure in these simple things.