30 AUGUST—It rained all morning last Friday, a light summer drizzle that left the air cool and fresh. By afternoon the clouds had rolled away and the blue of the water and sky were a perfect mirror as I walked the loop trail around Lake Padden.
The smells were intoxicating: cotton wood and ripening blackberries along the water’s edge, aromatic cedar and the rich odor of damp earth deeper in the woods. Can fragrance weave a tapestry? Brilliant shafts of light slanted through the green canopy overhead and lay in quavering pools on the forest floor.
I was smiling because… well, why not? Few people were on the trail and those I passed returned my smile—we shared a smile. Some lifted a hand or a few fingers ever so slightly as if to emphasize their greeting.
Today is Monday and I’m still thinking about all those smiling strangers. What is it about a smile that makes it so profound?
No red. No blue. Just: “Yes, I see you.”