There was a whir of wings, a little flash of grey and white, and a tiny bird landed on the outer edge of the deck. We held our breaths.

After all these years I'm still amazed when those minuscule seeds grow into plants hundreds of times bigger than their infant selves.

There are deer, birds, foxes, wildflowers and more. But you have to look. Lawrence looks with eyes that see things others tend to pass by.

The boy is nervous about wild animals that might be stalking around outside. Yet when he hears scratching at the door, he opens it, a bit.

What really caught my attention was a photo of a wolf. Especially the eyes. Intense. Deep. Totally present. Totally alive.

But, oh! it was lovely Monday morning. The stillness. The simplicity. The muffled slowing down of the world.

On the backside of that hill the incessant noise of traffic and construction was buffered out…so we could drink in the silence as well.

Sometimes I slow down enough to tune into a tree, enough--perhaps--to hear the trailing notes of an ancient song.

The "sweet" in this bittersweet experience is made more heartbreakingly beautiful because we know it won't last.