I love getting up early in the morning, walking out on the patio and watching the dawn tease its way up the horizon. I love the morning breeze whispering through the trees. I love breathing the fresh clean morning air in the silent birth of a new day.
I love watering my yard and watching little birds taking a bath in the pondings of water beneath my trees after I have watered them. The birds stomp around in the cool water, dip their beaks into it and transfer the coolness to places beneath their wings. I love having the little hummingbirds flit around me as I hold the hose and water my yellow bell and jasmine.
I love making my way into a baseball stadium, feel the exciting anticipation of the home crowd, being aware of the wonderful aroma of hot dogs steaming, then moving toward my seat, all the while overwhelmed by the emerald, pristine beauty of the playing field.
I love the first moments of setting out on a long trip. Since I've already looked at maps beforehand, the blue highways and landmarks of the journey are clear in my mind and I hear all the songs of all the roads I've travelled before. The long drive is never boring because I use the time to replay a host of "life-plays"; recalling memories of past journeys, but also re-visiting old triumphs and old regrets, my moral compass always re-setting itself to the moment. Loved ones, now gone, visit me on these journeys and I hear their voices with greater clarity without the diversions of home.
I love watching my wife take a nap; she looks so sweet and vulnerable and watching her elicits in me a sense of protectiveness. There has never been a time in my life when I didn't think my wife was beautiful; I love the grace of her as she walks away from me...and the gleeful smile as she returns.
I love having my soul uplifted by beautiful music
I love opening any history book and having a long dead historical figure leap to life from the page and speak eloquently to me, telling me just how it was...and why.
I love escaping my own mundane-ness with a well written book of fiction.
I love that my children always remember to call me on Father's Day. I think it is so cool that they take the time from their own life to remember me.
I love my two little doggies; they are a source of unconditional love. They don't care if I'm fat and ugly, or if my hair is messy or even if I've left a spot of mustard on the corner of my mouth. The two little girls stage mock gladiator battles with each other for me, growling and gnashing teeth and brawling fiercely as long as I continue to laugh at their efforts. They will dance in delight on two hind legs just at the prospect of a shared piece of toast or a bit of egg yolk left from the breakfast plate. If I am harsh and yell at them they will retreat to their bed but require only a single tender word to send them leaping into my lap, all hurt forgotten and forgiven.
I love listening on the phone as my baby grandson throws either a tantrum or yelling in ecstasy as the first image of his favorite baby icon appears on the tube. I love hearing the mush-mouth utterings of my baby granddaughter as background muzak when talking to my daughter.
Each time I see my older grandchildren I'm always expecting them to be hormonally-challenged beasts with a philosophical sneer for the "older set" and am always amazed and delighted that they have evolved into loving and caring people.
I'm a naturally cynical person who is deeply concerned about my world. But I am also blessed that my creator has given me so many things to love.
Life is good...and sometimes beautiful.