Dancing in the Rain Birds

Landon Johnson dashing through sprinklers.

Dancing in the Rain Bird

I didn’t need to look at any clock to know almost exactly what the time was.  You might ask, “Why is that?”

I turned the corner into my driveway.  The first sprinkler water zone was active.  Water was flying everywhere to my left as I wound my way toward the garage.  I knew this path well, so I was able to use my peripheral vision to make sure that the sprinkler heads were all spinning, functioning properly.  Sometimes I worry that doing so has become some sort of twisted obsession!  But, it is a necessary concern this time of year.  Satisfied, I guided the car into its space so we could get out.

As soon as Kilee and Garrison Johnson freed themselves from the seat belts holding them securely in place, they began to release their son Landon.  He, being three-years-old, jumped down from his car seat and immediately spun around with glee in his eyes. He didn’t even seemingly touch the ground as he sprinted to the grass and water.

“Water!” He called out as he ran forward.

Sprinklers are somewhat mundane to those of us who live in the High Desert, Wasatch Mountain Range.  Perhaps many of us think of them as even boring, or a necessary evil because of their cost in both time, effort and money.  But to Landon, a low-lander from Arkansas, where the amount of rain delivered from the sky in one week can often be more than we receive in a whole year, they were magical!

I watched him become completely soaked and perfectly thrilled within sixty seconds!  And, could only conclude that, to him, they were one of life’s greatest gifts.  A pleasure to be relished and thoroughly enjoyed.  And, enjoy he did!

Right after he ran in, he sat down to immediately remove his shoes and socks.  There was more to feel and experience here than just water.  He wanted to touch the damp, green Kentucky Blue Grass with his feet.  He wanted to have a bath with the also appreciative birds which were only slightly inconvenienced by his massive, boisterous intrusion into, up to now, their exclusive domain.

“Birds!” He cried out with fulfilled exuberance.

He giggled, danced in the Rain Birds, and seemingly brought the equivalent of noon-day-sun back to the 8:00 p.m. hour.  And, he conveyed something else to me as well.

I didn’t need to look at any clock to know exactly what the time was.  It is a time I will never forget!  You might ask, “Why is that?”

It is the time when Landon taught me that there can be wonder, beauty and magnificence in our lives, if we will simply stop making the magical, mundane!

Light From a Single Candle

“Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened.  Happiness never decreases by being shared.” - Buddha

Light From a Single Candle

One Friday morning, yes, it was early, I pulled up to my friend Scott Wall’s home.  When I arrived, he was already standing in his drive, ready to go.  Now, days later, this memory lights my way forward, like a candle, etching a bright picture of goodness into my awareness.

He was wearing a baseball-style-cap, jeans for working, and a long sleeve shirt while carrying a medium-size-white-cooler and work gloves.  He was also donning a bright smile that gave the rising sun serious some competition, causing all the roosters living in the area to crow in two different directions.  Yet, the roosters wouldn’t be confused for long, as we were headed east, while the sun was rising toward the west.

Our trip would also take Scott and me on an altitude increasing path.  First, we drove north on Utah Highway 36.  Then we exited onto Interstate 80 eastbound, where we drove along the multilane concrete ribbon for about an hour until we reached U.S. 40.  Once on this south bound freeway, just a little way into Summit County, we drove until we reached Utah Highway 248, which snaked its way through the increasingly high Wasatch Mountains to the town of Kamas.  In the center of Kamas, we turned south again, until we turned east on Utah Highway 35, the mountain passageway that would be the last thoroughfare to our destination, a nonprofit camp purposed to benefit teenaged girls.

Our purpose was to give time and effort to the camp.  Though, I must admit, I had another purpose.  I wanted to spend time talking with Scott.  So, we drove without music or radio on so, I could listen to my old, and good friend, fill me in on what had been happening in his life.  We hadn’t really talked for a few years and I had missed his humor, bright eyes, commitment to good doing and inimitable wisdom.  Now, that dearth, had come to an end because of this little adventure.

“Turn here!” Scott said as he pointed to a small dirt road to our right which also marked the end of UT 35 for us.

“I would have completely missed that!” I responded as I turned the car off the highway and followed the rough road toward the caretaker’s campsite.  That’s where we got out of the car and Scott donned another hat, a work hat, to shield him from the high-altitude sun. He was ready to focus on our shared purpose and led the way.

We lifted and hauled, cleaned and pulled throughout the day.  It seemed long and hard from time to time.  That is until we walked or ambled past some of the girls we were there to serve.  They smiled and thanked us as we were in their proximity.  Their illuminated faces reminded me of a specific principle taught by Buddha:

“Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened.  Happiness never decreases by being shared.”

We had shared the day together and It was now Friday afternoon. Yes.  We were tired when I pulled up to my friend Scott Wall’s home.  When we arrived, Scott got out of the car and stood on his driveway to say goodbye.  Now, just as when I picked him up in the morning, his enchanting smile was like a candle, etching a bright picture of goodness into my awareness.

“Buddha was right!” I whispered to myself was I looked at Scott and remembered the harmonizing, happy smiles of girls at the camp.  “Happiness never decreases by being shared!”

Obvious Joy

Hannah and Jeff exchanged something unsaid and likely unnoticed by some.

Obvious Joy

As soon as I walked into the room, I saw my friend Jeff Brock navigating toward me through the crowd in front of me.  He extended his hand and smiled a warm greeting as soon as he was close.  Then, I followed him watchfully toward the table where Hannah, his wife, was waiting for us.

Hannah smiled when she saw us approach.  I particularly noticed how her eyes sparkled as she saw Jeff getting close.  She and Jeff exchanged something unsaid, just before they sat on the same side of the table.  Their exchange may have gone unnoticed by some.  Perhaps it was my close proximity and friendship with them that allowed me to discern it?  What really mattered to me, is that on this occasion, which was really no special occasion at all, was that it acted as a catalyst, a spark, that unlocked an opportunity to witness something special.  That was the start, two common place occurrences, seemingly unrelated to the whole, that were actually critical connections to much more.

Our server arrived as soon as we were seated together.  She was bright, eager and laughed easily.  We listened carefully to the daily specials as she rehearsed them.  Then, she wrote our orders, repeated them for accuracy and turned to her left, all while giving us an infectious, brilliant smile.  I watched as she walked quickly across the way, toward the kitchen, where she conveyed our requested selections.  And, where I saw more smiles.  I began to visually trace her path back, the same one, from our table to the kitchen, from the kitchen back to our table.

My eyes stopped at every table in between.  I looked.  I listened.  I was astonished.  All before we began to eat.

Jeff, Hannah and I enjoyed our food and most importantly, our time together, right up to the time when we slid our chairs under the table and began to follow an invisible thread through packed tables and smiling faces.  I looked to my right as we walked toward the exit to the east.  I’d say I had walked about ten paces before the occupants of one table readily caught my attention.

Two people were seated at the table.  They were different than me in many respects.  And, when I saw them, a thought crashed to the front of my awareness! 

“I can see our differences, but is one of the most glaring difference between us their obvious joy?”

Shortly thereafter, I walked out of the restaurant with my friends Jeff and Hanna Brock, after navigating toward the exit, through the crowd in front of us.  They extended their hands and smiled a warm farewell as soon as we were outside.  Then, I followed them closely, with my eyes, as they made their way toward the parking garage and their car.

I was still bathed in the radiance of Jeff and Hannah’s smiles as I turned to walk down the street to my own waiting car.  I particularly remember how their eyes had sparkled as they saw each other.  I considered how they had exchanged something unsaid, just before they sat on the same side of the table.  The exchange may have gone unnoticed by some.  Perhaps it was my close proximity and friendship with them that allowed me to discern it?  What really mattered to me, is that on this occasion, which had been transformed into a special occasion, was that they acted as a catalyst, a spark, that unlocked an opportunity to witness something special.  They were the start, a conduit to multiple common place occurrences, seemingly unrelated to the whole, that were actually critical connections to much more.  One essential question!

I can see how I’m different from others in many ways, but is one of the most glaring differences between us obvious joy?