Typically, I stumble around in a world of my own, rarely noticing the wonderful things around me. Today, after the first meeting of my new support group (a bunch of middle aged Catholic women trying to make sense of life), I had a new appreciation for my surroundings.
As I sailed back to my car, I noticed a crack between two buildings I’ve passed a million times. At first I passed it by, then thought, “No, this could be something special.”
I backed up and peeked through a wrought iron fence barely 24 inches wide and discovered a quaint little hidey hole right in the middle of downtown Starkville. It looked like a page out of a New Orleans tourist brochure, or an Italian bistro. I climbed up the fence and shot the photo above, ignoring the honks of passing motorists who should know by now that my elevator doesn’t go to the top floor.
Oh my gosh. How have I missed this all my life? Made me want to squeeze through and sit a spell. (I’ve taken to talking like my grandmother.) On the way home I contemplated how this small slice of life happened to be. I computed the space is sort of behind Smith & Byars men’s store, and I knew Bonnie Smith must have had something to do with it.
This episode proves my theory that the best things come in small packages, and it helps to pay attention now and then.