Gotta move quickly. Gotta get things done.
Sometimes you take a few minutes out of that pace, and pay attention.
And sometimes it makes your whole day.
This morning I paid attention.
When a local lobsterman on a boat stopped by my neighbor’s dock to admire her dogs, and have a quick morning chat.
And I thought, how cool it is that this happens here. Sure, the mail lady waves and smiles as she speeds down my street. And, ya, the friendly Fed/Ex guy delivers often for the Nearly Perfect Husband’s work.
But in Maine, your local lobsterman might swing by your dock to say ‘hi’ (and he might even call you ‘Dee-ah’ if you are lucky).
I was smiling as I snapped pics, standing on the crumbling stone wall in my front garden.
And as the big, diesel motor revved a little with that classic ‘bub bub bub’, and the boat turned and slid past our mooring, her stern came into view.
And it hit me.
This year it took a little longer.
There have been happenings to worry over. Events that took attention away…
And then, in my brain, Etta James was singing to me.
Because at last summer in Maine, that long-time love of mine, seemed to descend all around me.
And for this, I gave thanks.
And smiled some more.
Thanks for readin’.
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