I marvel a lot.

Perhaps that’s a blessed gifty holdover from childhood innocence, because I don’t feel a driving need to approximate even those human doings that make me marvel.

Long ago, I marveled over the wondrous rainbows that gasoline can make in a busy-bussy city puddle.

I marveled that one can see stained glass church windows reflected so clearly on the top cut stone of one’s finger ring.

I marveled that pockets full of earthworms were so soft and warm, and that ants tickle as they traverse a small arm and leg over and over.

I marveled that the shady wooded hills smelled so different from front and back and side yards. I would not have been startled by the appearance of fairies. I still wouldn’t. They’re as real as ever. Like sift-y sand.

I marveled at tap dancers and plate-jugglers and harmonica players; at those who take a string of yarn and some small metal poles and make hats and mittens of it all; at those who take air and cheeks and lips and make the combination into a happy tune when coming in from work, or when going out to work.

I marveled at purring. We always do.

I marveled at the strange symphony going on below my ear as I laid my head on my mother’s stomach while she read. I sat up and looked at her every few minutes, “You didn’t hear that??”

In latter years, I’ve marveled at how the song of a tiny wren smaller than half my hand can be so loud. Their lungs are tiny — how is this volume possible?

I asked a Kerry friend who is a school teacher, and he asked his students to get to the bottom of this. It turns out the littlest birds may make only the littlest of sounds, but that there is something in the human ear that amplifies these sounds.

For our joy, of course. For our shoring up. For our replenishment.

I marveled at granddaughter who painted her origami cranes. I marveled at sailors who sang to a whale. I marveled for weeks after reading May Sarton refer to her poetry as “her work.” Her job was poetry? But … oh my! Yes, I see it.

I marveled to read that Michelangelo was so conflicted. So human.

I marvel at stripes applied by God’s hand to the tiniest of chipmunks ending in a rusty rump to blend in with Spring’s odd wake-up colors. I marvel, too, at the full-length detailing of even one finest feather — bluejay, seagull, blackbird, pheasant, pigeon..

I marvel at how breath and holes in wood and a bag to hold extra breath can squeeze out a sound so beautiful it can rend a God-to-human veil from Top to bottom.

I marvel at how little live creations sit on sun-setting perimeter rocks and guardrail posts, just soaking in the warm quiet of the day. They have no idea that their eyes reflect that of which they have caught sight.

And dragonflies. The engineering, hydraulics and graceful delicate beauty of a dragonfly explains so much that one can never verbalize on the outside of the soul. Similarly to the wordlessness of the first felt flutter of a human foot within.

Indeed, I marvel that we grow humans like inside-orchids, and that babies grow even when they’re sleeping.. until one day, their precious little systems grow bigly enough to stink up enormous socks as they walk down the aisle toward new little socks..

I marvel at it all; the blue and salmon skies; the ripples and sparklings; the salt spray face-bath under rude gulls wheeling; the very fact of this world faithfully, constantly spinning and rotating; and the very fact of our faithful, constant replenishing, replenishing..

I marvel, thus, that any of us might deny it to another or deprive anyone of any of it. If we really think about it, it is never licitly ours to take away from this human leg of our journey; we can only licitly add to it.







  1. granny1947 says:

    Oh wow. You must spend the whole day in awe.
    I am jealous!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. ๐Ÿ™‚ I aim to be in awe, but it surely doesn’t always work out that way. It does seem, though, that even one little *gift* recognized can save my marbles, whether they be mental, spiritual or emotional. I’m very VERY lucky, I’d say! โค


  2. Exquisite! Such deep and touching eloquence and grace. ๐Ÿ’œ

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh, thank you for saying that. Good heavens, these days I just hope I speak for many whenever I speak. (Unless it’s something too cranky; then it’s just from me!) ๐Ÿ’œ

      Liked by 1 person

  3. grandmalin says:

    You are simply marvellous๐Ÿ˜Š

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you! Glad you enjoyed!


  4. Gail says:

    Beautiful reflection. But….. don’t let those little tickling ants fool you. They can deliver a wicked bite as I discovered last week. We got infested with the little tiniest of sugar ants and one crawled up my arm as I was moving my ant bait and it bit me at the crook of my elbow. It made a red bump and stung like mad. I marveled (LOL) at how something so tiny can have such a mean bite!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you! Are those little ants what we up here might have always called “red” ants? Those always bit, but the small black ones didn’t — though just last year a medium sized black ant bit me (when it got trapped in my clothing) for the first time ever! We get them the last half of Spring through June or so these 39 years.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Gail says:

        These are the tiny dark ants (light gray to black) that like sugar. I’ve always known them as sugar ants although in the south they are also called Pharaoh ants. I have heard a lot of elderly people call them piss ants. LOL! Whatever these are, the bite is painful. I read that sugar ants don’t bite and though they have a stinger, it isn’t big enough to puncture human skin. So maybe these aren’t sugar ants. I know they are so tiny, I had to get a magnifying glass to be able to determine they were even ants! We used the Terra liquid ant baits and it attracted them like crazy within hours. Our baits were just full of them! I’ve never had these before. They were even going to my cat’s bowls but I’ve had cats now for almost 30 years so why now? I think red ants are the same as fire ants and we have those too but they are much bigger than these.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. It seems to me that climate change is ever more rapidly provoking creature change (and extinction) due to habitat and food and water source change, perhaps mostly via temperature change but also via ever accumulating damages from more fires, floods, overfishing, hydrofracking…
        Well, anyway, here’s hoping your ant surprises are resolved before your humidity sets in! I hear the daily 80+ temps have already returned to the South!

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Gail says:

        Yes, it is 83 degrees here now. Our weather has been crazy. It goes straight from the 40s where we have the heater on to the 70s or 80s where we’re running the air conditioner. I keep hearing we will have some spring weather but I’m still waiting. We haven’t had too many days where we’ve just gotten to enjoy the windows being open. It seems that’s a more typical pattern for us now… we go from winter to summer and summer to winter, with not much spring or fall weather in between.

        I hope you guys are warming up!


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