Possibilities . . .

We've recently moved.  We love our new (very old) house, and part of the fun of starting over is discovering all of the pieces of the picture that unfold with each new day.  I will admit, it being a house built in 1930, some of the surprises are not all together happy ones; but many of them are!  It's fun seeing little glimpses of the past or watching what comes up in the yard as different weather makes its way here.

This morning, as I headed out with Sadie for our walk, I loved seeing all of the fall blooms that emerged overnight.  I couldn't help but smile, wondering who planted the bush?  What were they going through at the time it was planted?  How long did they imagine it might bring smiles?  Etc., etc., etc.

If you've read this blog for any length of time at all, you know that my brain works like that.  I like wondering.  I like imagining.  And . . . well, I like flowers that bloom overnight without my help!

I was delighted by the blooms, I was.  As I walked, though,  I realized I was actually more delighted by something else - something not as beautiful, but more giving, I believe.  (I hope no former English teachers are reading this - I'm well aware there were some rule breaks in the former sentence.  That's the way I wanted, though.  So there.)

What delighted me most - what brought me the most hope - was the bountiful number of buds.  The bush is laden with buds too many to count.  That means flower after flower after flower, for days and days.  That means that as we begin to don our jackets and sweaters, we are promised the gifts of blooms and blooms.  I love that!

I spent the rest of my walk considering the gifts of possibilities.  I wondered how many I pass by and don't notice.  I wondered how many times I see the picture right in front of my face but fail to notice and wonder about the possibilities hanging all around.

What other possibilities are out there?  Are you missing any?