A hedge of knock-out roses breaks the landscape. The bushes provide a beautiful barrier lining the drive, keeping vehicles off the lawn. The cherry red blooms can easily be seen even from this distance. From her view in the kitchen window, she sees the hummingbirds feeding on the sweet nectar within the feeders hanging from the eaves of her porch. She can see her neighbors as they work among the rose bushes and other plants. It’s only just 9 AM yet the outdoor thermometer boasts close to 80 degrees Fahrenheit. The straw hats and long sleeves protect them from the searing sun bearing down. The thick jeans and gardener’s gloves protect them from the thorns and other sharp objects. The heavy clothing adds to their sweatability.
Those roses are breathtaking. Of course, everything in the neighbor’s yard is breathtaking. It seems that Mr. and Mrs. Green spend their entire day working in that yard of theirs. Both have had to give up their jobs because of health issues, yet every day you find them outside in the heat, on their knees or hauling wheelbarrow loads of dirt and mulch. Yeah, it’s all beautiful for sure, but how do they do it? Better yet, why do they do it? Don’t they realize there are recliners and air conditioning inside?
With a deep Irish sigh, she shakes her head. What silly questions those are really. The sun is hot, the labor is never ending yet as the morning light shines on the natural beauty of the landscape, the answers can easily be seen with the naked eye. The thorns, the grunt work and the sweat equity are nothing compared to the result nor the sense of pride that comes with a job well done.
From her view in the kitchen window, she sees the beauty yet watches the work involved. Her immediate reaction is why not sit inside in the cool and comfort. Then she wonders, “Is that my unspoken motto in life as well? Is it possible that instead of being amid the beauty and part of the beauty, I watch from a distance–avoiding the thorny bits, staying out of the heat?”
Silly questions indeed! Lowering the blinds, she returns to her recliner. With the remote, she searches for Good Morning, America. There’s an update on the royal couple. “Yeah,” she mumbles to herself, “if I had their money, I would be smiling for the camera too!” In the kitchen, a small shaft of Light pierces through the blinds, spotlighting The Book on the corner of the breakfast table.
The Lover watches, almost unseen and unnoticed, and waits to write yet another chapter in His story of love.