More Small Joys

When I was taking pictures around the house to try to practice a little gratitude, I went outside and soon I had way too many pictures. So here are some small joys in my yard. . . let’s hope that they aren’t covered by snow this weekend!

Look! Squint. Look harder. Can you see it?

There is a small stick in the middle of a donut of mulch protected by a bunch of larger stakes. It is a baby tree, offered up free from the Town of Niskayuna in celebration of Arbor Day.

We planted some ground cover. And, joy of joys, it came back.

Here is my view from the hammock in my front yard. It looks better in person. There are buds all over this tree. That baby tree will grow up to look just like it someday.

J had a big, exciting outing into the wide, wide world last weekend. I brought her with me to the Schenectady Greenmarket to choose some flowers for the container on our front porch.

Pretty tulips. Talk about appreciating small, ephemeral joys. Already, some critter lopped the heads right off of these. Easy come, easy go.

The shrub by the front door is starting to blossom.

Magnolia blossoms. I cut off about five branches for a friend, and there’s so much to it, you couldn’t even tell the difference.

This is less picturesque, but it is one of several raspberry bushes that our next door neighbor planted between our houses. Basically zero work by us, and we take in far more than our fair share of the harvest. Even better, we have rogue baby raspberry bushes that are sprouting this spring. I look forward to a big ol’ berry brier in our future.

Hyacinths. I love the smell of hyacinths.

I like that our rainbow in the window is peeking from behind these frilly daffodils.

The girls are sad. Today was a beautiful day, and they took a bike ride together. I watched from the window as they pedaled along the driveway, cheerfully discussing which route they should take, and I wished I’d had the phone handy to take a picture of them. But I knew I’d be too slow, that by the time I could focus they’d be half a block away. So I watched them and I was glad for them, that at least they have each other as up-close companions.

And tonight, they are sad. Some days are tougher than others. But at least they are sad together. In fact, in the time it took to write these last two paragraphs, it sounds like they’ve cheered each other up.


  1. Claire

    They’re lucky to have each other. I really worry about my son’s social skills, being an only child and being home for all these months with no in-person interactions with other kids. He’s happy, but I still worry. I hope that it will gradually become safer for things to move toward our new normal and that your kids will feel better in the process.

  2. Yeah, they really are lucky. I feel bad for your son and all the only kids — we parents are so lame for hanging out! At least the kids are able to connect online in ways we couldn’t in the Way Back When.

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