The American Automobile Association predicted a record number of road trippers this weekend. Despite the high gas prices, more than 42 million people in the USA will drive to a destination more than 50 miles from home to celebrate the holidays. There are nebulous reasons stated for all that travel — nebulous because with all the rhetoric being spouted, no one really knows why people are heading out. I tend to think people just want to run away for a bit, to pretend that life is back to normal (or more probably back to a normal they wish existed) where there were no wars, no babies going hungry for lack of formula, no deadly disease ready to spawn a new variant, no political polarization dividing families and turning friends into foes.
I’m lucky — I don’t need to contend with all that miserable traffic to get to my holiday destination because I’m already at my destination. There is no place I would rather be than right here, in my own house or outside enjoying my own private backyard park.
A local friend who knows the true state of my yard — that the pictures of flowers I post are pretty much the only flowers that are growing on that given day — teases me (in a friendly way) about my knowing every flower, every butterfly, every blade of grass in my yard, and that’s pretty much the case. She also thinks people should take life the way I do, by celebrating every little thing that comes along. Although I would never say “should” when it comes to other people, she’s right that I do celebrate each new development in my yard. Although I enjoyed my trips — from ocean to ocean and border to border — and loved seeing new things, it’s a privilege being able to experience the constantly changing environment of my own backyard.
It would be nice if the flowers in my yard bloomed constantly, but they come and go. The tulips were supplanted by larkspur and golden poppies, which in turn were supplanted by wildflowers, echinacea, and almost-ready-to-bloom lilies and daylilies. These will be supplanted by other flowers later in the season — marigolds, mums, and purple asters. At any one time, there are at least a few beautiful blossoms, a few spent flowers, and a lot of greenery.
The lawn, too, goes through cycles. Since it’s a cool weather grass that doesn’t like the heat of summer, I seem to be always coaxing brown spots back to life. In another two or three months, though, when the worst of the heat is gone, my grass will perk up again and stay green until the worst of winter.
But for now, I am glad I don’t have to be on the road with millions of others, and I am especially glad for whatever joys this “holiday destination” throws my way.
What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?
A fun book for not-so-fun times.
Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God.