Blessed

Tammy Brown

 

Late Saturday afternoon, after a busy day of cooking and hosting, I sat in a folding chair by the lake at a birthday party for my son.  My children were there, and  a dozen of my son’s friends, a group of very dear young adults.  We had feasted on fajitas and guacamole.  We had fished a little with some old rods from the garage and pitched washers.  We drank water, beer, and apple juice and told stories about the beloved birthday boy. Two busy five-year-olds gathered wild onions and gifted each adult with one.  They grabbed our hands to show us bugs and berries and wildflowers. Little  Piney worked it’s magic on the group.  Everyone felt mellow and happy, sitting in a circle, and talking about good things.  I was feeling blessed, richly blessed, by this abundance–my healthy, strong, and kind children; these warm, and funny friends who love my son; this green, alive place that is Little Piney nurturing and holding us.  The frogs were croaking, and one Chuck Will’s Widow began his song.  Then, just as dusk was about to become night, the yellow-green lights of fireflies began to spark, just above the grass, just below the trees, just before our eyes, just for this blessed moment.

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The Birthday Crowd
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The Birthday Boy and Sisters

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