I never seem to remember it is there.
It’s not until the first spray of the hose hits the dirt that I remember.
It’s not until something flies out right in front of me that I realize my carelessness.
Every morning, for the past week, it has happened.

Three large potted plants hang on my side porch.
They have grown full and lush.
The ivy cascades down each side and almost touches the porch floor.
The flowers are responding well to the organic fertilizer I add weekly.

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It was a game that was played quite often.
It always ended in giggles.
It always bordered on the absurd.
That was part of the fun.

It began with a story.
The first person whispered the story to the person next to them.
That person told the story to someone else, who told the story to someone else.
The story was repeated until everyone heard.

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It was said in passing.
My friend talked about an eagle’s nest.
My friend actually saw the eagle’s nest.
My friend actually saw the baby eagles.

I was intrigued.
The nest was not too far away.
My friend saw the nest on the bike route she takes on her afternoon ride.
I listened as she described what she saw.

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We told her that Aunt M is in her own apartment.
We told her that when she comes over, she would not always see her.
This day, however, Aunt M was coming over.
This day, her mommy told her so.

Aunt M make smoothie, my two-year-old granddaughter said with certainty.
There was so much more to her statement.
Aunt M will let me help her.
Aunt M will share it with me.

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The truck was in the driveway.
I have seen a truck there four times before.
This time was a bit different.
This time was the last time.

Our youngest daughter got her own apartment.
She has been out of college for two years.
She has a full time job.
She got her feet under her first and decided that now was the time.

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My iPhone does not recognize my fingerprint.
I followed all the directions.
I successfully added fingerprint one and fingerprint two.
It worked for a while and then it stopped recognizing it.

I cannot figure it out.
I has been annoying.
It is not that I am lazy.
It is just that feature works for everyone else in my family.

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We hired someone new to prune our bushes and lay mulch for us.
Everything looks lovely.
I looked down from my bedroom window and noticed it.
A bush, that had been planted only a few years ago, was dead.

We have three other such bushes near our living room window.
By now, they all should be budding.
By now, they should be showing signs of growth.
However, this particular bush was just dry branches.

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Easter was very different this year.
We were not able to go to church.
We watched the livestream of the church service in our family room.
There were no Easter baskets, since I never had time to shop before things shut down.

Yet Easter was sweet.
Easter was stripped of all the trimmings.
We focused on what Easter really means.
Not that the meaning got lost other years, just that the meaning was magnified this year.

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It is inevitable that a young child will occasionally have a bad dream.
Those dreams do not happen open.
However, when they happen, it is quite disconcerting.
Ask any mother who is awakened in the middle of the night and she will tell you.

Especially when the power is out because of a storm, a scary dream can seem even worse.
I would open the blinds so that the little bit of moonlight would shine into the room.
That little bit of light seemed to cast the bad dream into the shadows.
Into the shadows it went; right where it belonged.

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The story started out simply enough.
It got more unbelievable.
Except it wasn’t.
It really happened.

I know the storyteller.
I know the story is true.
I know my mouth widened as she told the story to its end.
I know she made me laugh in the telling.

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