Saturday, July 23, 2011

Faint Breezes

Triple digits, a classic sign of Illinois summer, each degree a tick on elation's meter.

Even so, the pores cry for relief if you sit in it long enough! Suddenly there's a faint breeze, barely more than a wisp. We wouldn't notice it on a temperate day, or while walking to the car, traveling the routine. Only in critical moments of desperation do we realize yet another strata of nature's blessings.

The driver who lets you merge into her lane.

The store that stays open 24 hours and carries cough drops.

The bank that allows a temporary increase in the debit card limit with a simple phone call.

The right to congregate with others and freely speak our beliefs.

The irony is that if we could just anchor the same sense of gratefulness in every moment, then desperation would visit us less often.

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