sometimes

Sometimes you can travel the path to the Stinky Farm again and again and never see.

Sometimes you can walk right through your life not noticing what's around you.

I don't know how many times I've run down the country road to the Stinky Farm at lunch, 1.5 miles there, 1.5 miles back.

I've run through hot summer, brilliant fall and now, cold December. And I never saw it.

The swing. Still hanging from sturdy oak branches, strangely out of season.

To get the best angle, I had to climb down into the deep ditch and up the steep bank, and navigate over downed branches.

(This happens to me. Instead of running the whole time, I stop when I see something interesting. A cat. A leaf. Roosters.)

It made me happy, though. Unreasonably happy. I felt like I discovered something. It made me think of play and rest. It was a small adventure, unexpected in the middle of the workday.

Sometimes God hands me the joys to count.