To Smell The Roses

I stopped the car today to watch cardinals splashing in the mud puddles
on the old dirt road
beside the hay fields
they seemed to expect me to stop
and wait for them
to get finished
so I did
and when they finally flew away I drove on

The road is bright red with mud
the fields are emerald green and about a foot high already, with new growth
someone has placed several beehives
next to the clover field
the white of the hives a striking contrast to the sea of red

later this evening, driving home, I stopped beside the hay fields again
to hear the frogs singing
they are gathered beside a huge puddle inside the field, next to the road
when it rains it becomes a tiny pond
and the frogs are so grateful
they sing their praises
and sing out joy
in the cool night air
I sat for awhile beside the road, to listen

I also saw baby cows frolicking, earlier; three of them nudging heads, like goats. I stopped the car in the middle of  the road, just to watch them....and wished I had my camera handy,but there were cars approaching so I had to move along.

it seemed to be a day just meant for stopping to smell the roses, so to speak
and I enjoyed these small wonders of nature
as much as the grandest play or the finest orchestra.

Later at home, I cut a new rose that was all bent from the recent storm and carried it inside to let everyone have a whiff of it's fragrance, truly the essence of love and life...
of gentle quiet moments,
of serenades,
of lovely quickening moments of playfulness,
and joy
of expecting the world to be all that it can be.