Yesterday was a day full of tasks.  Most of them were a bit time-consuming.  One item on my list was mowing the lawn.

Mowing our two to three acre lawn is a therapy of sorts… a three-hour therapy session.  The session started with the trusty Toro push mower.  I pushed the old red mower around the house, getting into the nooks and crannies that evade the bigger riding mower.  When I was satisfied I had allowed myself enough room around the house, trees, and other lawn obstacles, it was time to fire up the Husky.

I have a usual “route” that allows me to get through each section with some manner of efficiency.  Some days, my mind wanders while I ride around the yard.  The hum of the mower usually blocks out any other sounds.  As I got into my rhythm yesterday, I started to notice what was around me.

As the grass was cutting, I could smell the aroma produced by the clippings.  Fresh cut grass.  It can be a plague to those suffering with allergies, but to me, it is a scent that signifies freshness… springtime.

The wind was blowing.  The leaves on the trees were caught in each passing gust.  I looked at the different ways the leaves on different trees move.  I also noticed that the pine trees have their own way of dancing as the boughs are caught in the passing flow of air. 

As I looked up (glancing down frequently enough to assure I was still keeping the mower in check), I saw the dragonflies.  Glorious dragonflies!  The dragonfly of the day was a common whitetail.  I stopped mowing as several had gathered near an old apple tree in a display that resembled fighter pilots, swooping and catching the smaller insects in the air.  Hover and dive!  And I smiled.

How often do we stop and look?  How often do we really see what is before us?

My friend in Low Places shared a video segment with me done by an amazing photographer, Stephen Wilkes.  In that short segment, Wilkes made a statement that struck me… “The act of sharing has become more important than the experience itself”.

During many of our life experiences, fantastic or mundane, we can get caught up in taking “selfies”, texting or calling others, and forget to look and listen to what is happening around us at that moment in time.  We fail to see what is right in front of us.  We miss the details. 

I am thankful for the time I took to smell the grass, watch the leaves, and be entertained by the dive-bombing dragonflies. 

And the lawn looks fantastic!