Layering On Joy

I have often made mention of the fact that I am so thankful for being given “the simple touch of getting joy from nothing much”.  It’s a gift that has enriched my life from childhood to this very day.  If you sifted through my DNA, I am sure you would find only trace elements of say, the “shopping gene” or the “fashion gene” but what would be present, is an overabundance of the “go out and play gene”.  If you have followed this blog, you know from, “Still Swinging at 60”, that given an opportunity to start my day sailing over a pond on a Tarzan swing, I will take it.  Clearly the “Peter Pan” syndrome isn’t relegated only to boys.

So, picture the joyful circumstances I find myself in at the moment:  I am back in New England, in beautiful, blooming-with-lupines Maine, I am with my grandchildren so I have a mandate to play every day, and now I have a new grandson, fresh out of the oven, smelling of baby and sweetness, to rock and to kiss on the top of his baby head.  How much joy can one layer on?!

And, while we are counting layers, in my side panel biography here, I know I explained the double pleasure I get, not only being a naturalist who revels in the world around me, but as a firm believer in the One who made it all, the “double wow” of seeing it through the lens of the Glory of God all around me.  Now, add grandchildren who are willing to tiptoe up to nests quietly to watch a patient mother robin, sitting on her eggs, still waiting for her “due date” to come, or don’t mind braking for every beetle or ant that passes by. And there you have it, another layer of joy added on.

The cast of characters here are a four-year-old granddaughter; a confirmed bibliophile already who will weave any story she is reading into the world around her, who thinks and breathes fairies and who is the best audience for a silly Nona.  Then there is a 2 year old grandson who, at his height, is fully aware of the presence of any crawling bug and, along with Nona, loves to stop and watch them, and bless his soul, not the type, (yet anyways), to want to stomp them.  Birds captivate him as they do me, and a crying spell can usually be averted if we head to the bird feeder to see who is dining. 

He is just coming into his own in the world of words and “blue sky”, “chickadee”  “butterfly” and “wind” (I am always spouting a poem about “My lady wind” and he has picked up on it) are some of the things he likes to comment on.  Although his true “go to” phrase is BIIIIIGGGG Truck, and any ride in the car is all about the “hunt” for BIIIGGG Trucks.  What an easy layer of joy that is when we find one.

And now, the newest edition is only 4 days old and, at this point, hasn’t a clue that there IS a world around him, but when he does discover it, you can bet his Nona and his brother and sister will be more than eager to share it with him.  So keep those layers coming.  And may you, unknown reader out there, have your own layers of joy to revel in and be thankful for.

Thanks for putting up with a purely crowing, “Nona blog” this time: back to nature the next time.  The mystery of, what was that huge bird I saw with the white tail?

 Think bald eagle, I know they can take up to 4 years to get their white head and tail but don’t they come together, not a white tail and purely brown head.  Hmmm, can White Tailed Eagles that live in Greenland get off course and end up over a river in Maine?  Inquiring minds wish they knew, but again, that is for another time.  Meanwhile, I hear the sound of waking children, time for another grueling day of play!  The proverbial, “tough job but someone’s got to do it”!  “Nona’s coming”…