Day 204

Thanks to the run of fantastic weather we've been having lately, my new weekend tradition seems to be escaping into the outdoors. Saturday I didn't go quite as far afield as I have the last two or three weeks. Instead, I went back to a spot that's just up the road--the Meijer parking lot.

Scoff not! Between the lot and the road, there's a big swath of grassy hill and trees, both deciduous and evergreen, and squirrels and birds and flowers in the spring and summer. And if you step over the curb and walk about six to ten feet, you can sprawl out on the hill and not be seen by people parking or driving by.

So that's what I did. I took a book to read in the sun, but after a couple of pages I put it down and just stared up into the sky, content simply to exist, fingers splayed out in the grass, feeling the coolness of the dirt pressed into my palms.

When I turned my head, I saw the lone leaf above rising out of the grass, looking so remote and stalwart. It felt like a teeny, tiny revelation, though of what precisely, I couldn't tell you.

The moral of the story? Well, if there is one, I suppose it's one of two things. 1) It's important to find out what your soul needs and feed that, no matter what (unless your soul needs, you know, to murder kittens or something). Or 2) you can find enough nature to make a difference in the most surprising places.

It was perfect for enjoying the last hour or so of light in the day. And speaking of the last light, I got this shot with the sunset setting on my camera. How extremely African savannah does this look? I love it!