Small Things, Small Moments

This was two weeks ago in Minnesota, but trust me, Ohio has these same colors! 

Back in April, I wrote a small post in which I announced that I was no longer writing on Medium. In my Medium article, I let readers know that I do have this blog, but then warned them not to expect to find any stunning revelations. After all, this blog is "Small Moments of Great Reward."

"Small Moments," not "Great Big Honking Moments." Small moments. I try to write about what I see, what I do, how I manage my days. And as I make more deliberate efforts to write again, I remind myself that writing small is perfectly okay.

I take great comfort from E. B. White's observation about his own writing: "I discovered a long time ago that writing of the small things of the day...the inconsequential but near things of this living, was the only kind of creative work which I could accomplish with any sincerity or grace."

White was 30 years when he wrote those words to his older brother. If White were looking back and commenting on his own work today, he would likely still say that about himself, perhaps adding that even his children's books reflected those "small things of the day." 

If small things worked for Andy White, they sure as heck work for me.

As I noted in a long ago post that disappeared due to operator error (and which I paid homage to in that small April post), a small focus does not mean I have parked my intellect at the door. That being said, for the most part, this continues not to be a forum in which I make pithy, political observations or solve world issues. When I do write about the issues of the day such as hunger or access to justice or homelessness, it is almost always about how those issues play out on a local and personal level.

The last several weeks have been hard at times on several fronts. I learned this morning on Facebook that a colleague from the very early years of the mental health docket, someone whose contributions as a therapist were insightful and gracious and, at times, hilarious, and who had just celebrated his 69th birthday, died suddenly this morning. Thinking of him triggered memories of helping create that docket over a decade ago and then seeing the rewards. Warren's schedule has been beyond packed, straining personal time (his, mine, and ours) and any of our calendars. There are elderly parent issues, there are other matters in our circles of family and friends. The recession is hitting this community hard, which means the number of people needing legal help is hitting all-time highs. 

It has been tough.

But here's the thing: life goes on. Life rolls on despite the hardships and losses and I try to take joy in brighter moments. While the weather continues to shift into deeper autumn, we are still having brilliant days. Today is one such day; I took a long walk earlier just to soak in the colors in the trees, the blue sky, the sunshine.

In my last post, I wrote about the tomatoes and peppers sunning on the deck. Some of them are out there right now as I type this. We had a meal of roasted stuffed peppers a few nights ago; I chopped and froze the rest of them. I have eaten some of the tomatoes; I still have hopes of nurturing the others to eating stage. This morning I texted my friend Pat to see if she wanted any; she and her husband were about to go out of town for the weekend and she was thrilled to have them. (Talk about perfect timing!) I bagged six medium ones for them to pick up as they left When I handed her the bag, she cradled it to her heart.  I have a small bag of cherry tomatoes to take with me tomorrow to a meeting with Amy; she loves cherry tomatoes.  

They are the last tomatoes of 2022. May Pat and Amy enjoy theirs. As for the ones I have, I hope to savor every bite.