Watching the World Go By

Our dog Carmen and I were sitting on the front porch at Tilghman watching the world go by. Truth be told, not much world goes by at 8:30AM on a Sunday morning at the end of a road at the end of an Island. As I sipped my coffee, it occurred to me neither of us minded.

 The humidity broke the day before. The sun was shining, and a light breeze blew. It was something of a perfect morning. 

For an hour, not a soul passed—no cars, bicyclists, runners, or walkers. Other than a couple of rabbits in the neighbor’s yard, we were completely alone. Carmen didn’t even bother about the rabbits, and instead, lolled in the sun. Cicadas, crickets, and the occasional bird provided a gentle background hum.

 I would like to tell you I thought big thoughts, or planned out the day or coming week.  That maybe I was mentally working some issue, trying to find a solution.

 I did none of those things.

 I sat there drinking my coffee and thought of nothing much at all. I noticed the dew on the grass, heard the soft tinkle of one of our wind chimes, and watched our balloon wind spinner turn in the air.

It was nice to “just be.”

 Eventually, a car drove past—likely visitors hoping for a view of the cove. Later a second car slowly followed. Up the road, I heard our neighbor talking with their dog, Tank—a reminder that we weren’t the only ones enjoying the morning. It was still peaceful, but my quiet revelry broke.

 For a little while, the world and its problems felt far away. I think all of us could use more moments like this.