Yesterday morning, a long-time friend of mine and I went to Duke Gardens in Durham. Since I had no clever or fancy thoughts to pen in this June newsletter, I took a bunch of photos. Photos are great because you can always fill space with them. At least I'd make the newsletter look pretty even if I had not much to say.
I got shots of cone flowers, a Japanese lantern, the ponds with koi, and cactus. My friend and I walked along the paths, talking and taking photos. Other garden visitors spread blankets on the grassy slopes, some took photos of their families as they sat on benches and stood by the ponds. The morning was breezy with sunshine, a welcome change from the days of rain we had previously had.
As my friend and I walked, we came to the tree. The tree is an important landmark for me because decades ago, another friend and I went to Duke Gardens with our young children. Daniel and his buddy Caleb saw the tree and were eager to climb it. The lowest branch on the right screams "climb me," doesn't it? We moms told our boys not to climb, and, eventually, the two listened to us.
While the seasonal foliage at the Gardens is beautiful and puts all my attempts to grow flowers in my garden to shame, the tree will always be my favorite part of Duke Gardens. Because of yesterday's excursion, I now have a photo of the tree, and each time I view it, I'll have the memories to make me smile.
When my friend and I parted, refreshed that we had been able to openly talk about life's messy, sorrowful, and fragile components----in the midst of God's sustaining mercy----I went home and looked over the photos I had taken. The pictures of the flowering plants were lovely, but it was the photo of the duck that taught me something I needed to do.
The duck lay silent by the pond; there was no swimming for this bird. He simply basked in the sunlight. Sit a spell, as we say in the South (or in the duck's case, lie down and rest). Relax. Absorb the love God has for you---one of his marvelous creations!
In a world of much confusion and sorrow, the duck teaches us to plop down in the sunlight and be still. Put your worries aside; find the beauty around you, and engage in it. Be like the duck!
Walking in nature (and with a good friend, if you are lucky) is not only healthy, but healing. Capturing scenes from a trek through the lenses of a camera or phone provides beauty to see, memories to hold, and lessons to apply.
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