Sometimes, I think we all get busy and focused to the point where we tune out some of the magic in the world around us. I've definitely been a bit guilty of that these past few weeks.
But thankfully, the universe has sent along a few messengers to remind me to stop and drink in the small wonders in these lingering summer days.
My dad is visiting from the west coast this week and stopped through Monday night to have dinner with us and, of course, play cars with the Kiddo. As we were standing outside grilling food, he said, "Gosh, I forget what it's like to hear the cicadas in the evenings."
They're such an ever-present noise--summer's answer to the hum of a winter furnace--that I hadn't paid much attention to them this year. But when I stop and listen they evoke such strong "sense" memories from my childhood--the smell of sun-warmed grass, getting sweaty in the twilight chasing fireflies with my cousins--that it's hard not to smile.
But I happened to toss one of the more successful orange tomatoes into my lunch sack the other day, and when I pulled it out my co-workers all remarked that it looked like a baby pumpkin.
It's not just a hardy tomato, it's a hardy tomato that looks like a baby pumpkin. I understand that this makes me a huge garden nerd, but somehow "baby pumpkin tomatoes" are a much more singular thing, yes?
Sitting outside in the garden the other night, the Kid discovered the camera. I would take a picture of him, then show it to him on the camera's back screen. Then another picture, and another, "There you are!" I don't think he really understood, but it was a great game.
We were at it for a good five minutes, with him trying to grab the camera, and me giggling and trying to keep his fingers off the lens. And when I went back to look at the pictures, I found this one of his beautiful eyes. It's out of focus and not something I would have purposefully taken, but there's something about it that I love.
Three tiny, silly, everyday things...but what better magic is there towards the end of summer?