Saturday, June 9, 2018 – A Day Dreams Were Made Of

It is so small a thing to have enjoyed the sun, to have lived light in the spring, to have loved, to have thought, to have done.

Matthew Arnold

It turns out to be the kind of day I once dreamed about when I was sitting in meetings and, in between meetings, responding to emails and accepting invitations to more meetings.

We start the day, as we do most days, coming together after our individual devotional times to talk about what we’ve gleaned; and then, after a bit of light housework, with camera bags in tow, we head out.

I noticed the day prior, when we were out and about, that roses were blooming in the rose garden in a local park. That garden is our first destination. We set our bags on a bench, pull out cameras and attach lenses, and head off in opposite directions to see what we can see. There are roses in a rainbow of colours, and in various stages of blooming: it smells heavenly here. We work in silence. At peace.

After we’ve covered the entire rose garden, we wander down toward the river. It’s dropped considerably since we were here a week ago; the spring flood danger is past. We wander back, along a meandering path, toward the car.

Out next stop, on the other side of town, is my favourite park in the city. We used to walk here before we were married; sweet memories live here among the flora and the fauna.

Again, we pull out our cameras and wander, capturing the essence of the place through our individual eyes. (Later, when we go through the photos together I’m struck with the unique perspective two people have in the same place.)

We head home for lunch—homemade soup because the day is cool—and play a game of Qwirkle while we eat.

After lunch it’s gardening time. It’s become peppered with countless tiny weeds that need to be eradicated. With garden forks in hand we set to work, carefully uprooting the interlopers and stirring the soil. I harvest lettuce and salad turnips for later,  water, and, struck with how pretty the little plot looks, take a few photos before we head for home.

Gerry pulls into the parking lot of Tim Hortons on the way—I’m craving a Boston Cream—and the rascal comes out with a box of six.

At home, I wash the produce and make a salad. We download our photos and spend a bit of time playing with them.

We watch a little bit of news and enjoy a donut, then eat the salad with a jar of salmon that I canned last year (we’re retired; we’re allowed to eat dessert first). Finally, we settle in the den to watch a favourite TV program.

It’s been the kind of easy busy day we treasure.

Simple happy.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things.
  1. I have a very small garden, but the rose plot is my favorite part of it. Such joy!

    1. Ah yes, roses are so lovely—and fragrant!

  2. Lovely writing, lovely photo, lovely rose. Thank you for sharing the simple but rich rhythms of your day. How delightful to enjoy your dessert first. It’s the little things.

    1. Thanks so much for stopping by, Beth. I enjoyed your FMF take so much.

  3. You two are so blessed.

    1. Most of the time, I feel that way, Karen. xo

  4. You’ve described my favorite kind of day, Linda!

    1. Ah, we both blessed to enjoy days like these, Kathy.

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