Present Living

Today is my final day of Easter break. I've done a lot of nothing during the past few days and so today I found myself lying on my bed, listening to my roommate's music from the other room and gazing out the window.

It looks like summertime here in the mornings, though it is only April and the warmer part of the year won't arrive for another month or so. But from inside the window the big, fluffy white clouds, deep blue sky, and the green plants, trees, and flowers can trick you into another season.

As I was lying there, enjoying the freedom to stare out the window without doing anything, a small white butterfly flew into my line of vision. Instantly I was flashed back to my childhood. Summertime on the small farm where I grew up. Me, seven or eight, in my favorite apple-print shorts and shirt outfit. The sun warm and friendly on my skin. Running barefoot with Britt and Josh, through the freshly-washed sheets, drying on the line in the east yard. The sheets making sweet-smelling, cool hallways for us to run through. The wind whipping through them and sometimes blinding us with clean, soft cotton. Scooter, our faithful dog, running around with us, loving playing with us.

Mom, calling us in for lunch. PB&Js or hotdogs or leftovers. The kitchen, slightly cooler than outside because of the shade. Naptime when the sandwhiches were gone. Dad coming home in the afternoon. Supper together and then playing outside in the summertime evening-light. Mom calling us in to bed- 8:30 but the sun still hanging in the western sky. We complain about going to bed while it's still light. Mom holds firm and we crawl between the sheets, hallways transformed magically into personal pre-sleep forts. Cool, clean, safe. Drift off to sleep.

Another in a long line of summer days. No thought of past or present. No worries to speak of. The serinity of living simply in the here and now. Present living.