Driving in, there were wooden posts holding up the guardrails on the side of the road, wet from earlier rains and morning dew. In the beams of sunlight that shone through the canopy of leaves above, they gave off wisps of steam and mist, almost as if still just waking up to the morning light.
Coming towards a stoplight at the bottom of a hill that has a partial view of the upper part of lake Washington, I could see off in the distance a thousand shimmering lights off of the surface of the otherwise open water.
Once at a full stop, I looked in my rear view mirror to notice the beard, mouth, and tongue of the man in the car behind me as he repeatedly took swigs of his orange-juice from a small plastic bottle, and appeared to be gargling with it, oblivious to the possibility that the enclave of privacy within one’s vehicle is actually open to the world through the same windows we use to see where we are going.
Along Juanita Drive, there was a golf course to the right, with patches of white that also glistened in the morning sun, but I could not tell for sure if it was lingering frost, or simply dew from the night before.
Further along on my ride in, there was a simple car dealership on the side of the road, with a multitude of flags waiving in the breeze, all of them lined up with each other, red and white in color, waving in synchronicity as if part of single, larger, more significant dance to the wind.
Approaching the freeway, there was a steeply sloped bank along the side of the road, covered with small grasses and shrubs, the surface of the land riddled with miniature ups and downs the size of beach balls. Together, the hills, the greenery, the dancing of light and shadow, and the hill itself seemed to form an array of every shade and hue of green imaginable, all in an intricate pattern that was simultaneously random, and composed of great order.
Most of these things and more exist all around us during most every waking moment of any given day. For some reason, however, they all seemed to stand out, screaming to be noticed, even if just in passing as I traveled in to work this morning. For although there have been days like this before, and will surely be more to come, what guarantee do any of us have that we will be around to enjoy them tomorrow?
Breath in.
Look around.
Give thanks to God that for this day, we are alive in the world.