Caught this photo as the car whizzed by along the expressway.
Loved the colours that made such a pretty backdrop to the lacework of branches and leaves.
Reminded me that in so many moments, there is such beauty around us, if we would only notice it.
Today, the writing prompt from the book I’m reading mentioned suggested closing my eyes and just ‘free-writing’ about what I could see, hear and feel around me. Although this is a common writing exercise, I found value in not just the practice of having heightened awareness in my senses, but also in chronicling a moment that is so ordinary in my life, but which might be interesting to look back on and read about years from now. Or perhaps some of my relatives might find it interesting to gain insight into what was deemed ordinary in ‘those olden days’.
The author of that book mused about how she herself would have found it precious to read about what her grandmother thought as she stood in line for the pawnshop, likely a frequent occurrence as she sought to single-handedly bring up nine children in post-war Ireland.
Although not all writing might be of value to many, all writing would be meaningful to at least some.
It is not just global history that is important, but family history can be of great worth too. For in knowing the past, our lives are always made richer.
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