Today was perfect weather for one of those slow summer strolls you sometimes take. The four of us wandered from the campsite, crossed a bridge over a river, then walked a path alongside a meadow of yellow flowers that was set perfectly against a green hillside and an almost cloudless blue sky.
We walked at a tempo befitting little Grace who frequently stopped to pick up petals, leaves, and seeds. She would look at them closely then hold them up to us for our a collective and somewhat theatrical gasps and wows.
A little further down that same path I found myself stopping and looking at a flower, a Pink Foxglove it turns out. I took a few pictures of it then thought about how I am grateful that even now, so many years after being as close to the ground as Grace currently is, I’m still struck by moments of wonder. Sure, I don’t pick up as many petals, leaves, and seeds as Grace does, but I do still stop and marvel at things in a way that I think some people have forgotten how to.
So today’s picture is of that Foxglove, and a simple moment of wonder.