Joyful greetings from my family room
You know, I’m not all about content marketing.
This is the scene I see as I write to you.
The view from my recliner in my family room; photo by Renae Gregoire
It’s my family room, the loveliest room in my house. It’s lovely because of our stone fireplace. Although you can’t see it, off to the left, it’s one of the first things we changed in the house to make it ours. Even now, at the start of spring, when the hearth is cold, and the blaze is but a memory, the fireplace brings me joy.
This room and my view — the one I shared with you earlier — are also lovely because of the stained glass my husband bought me, the one with a male and female cardinal. I adore this stained glass. It brings me joy daily.
And then there is the space outdoors. We created a tiny bird habitat with dual bird feeders, a suet holder for the downy and red-bellied woodpeckers who like to stop in for a nibble and to say hello, and a heated birdbath, now unplugged, providing liquid nourishment and a cool bath when the sun shines hard.
Look closely at the tall bird feeder outside. See that spot of red? It’s one of the many male cardinals who call our yard home. They’ve just started their beautiful ritual of wooing female mates by feeding them seeds, beak to beak. Soon, I know, there will be baby cardinals on my deck. Scrawny little things without full feathers, scruffy little tuft on top of their heads. They say that if you see baby cardinals, seemingly lost and destitute, away from their parents, fear not. Mom and Dad are close by. They won’t abandon their babies. And I’ve seen that first-hand here on my deck.
The most joyful moment this morning, though, comes from the spring flowers I keep on a tray on my ottoman-slash-coffee-table. As the sun begins to peek into the room, I move them from table to floor, where they can draw what they need from the sun’s rays to continue to bloom and grow. See how they’re raising their faces to the sun, dreaming of the day, soon coming, when they’ll return to the earth, planted to put down roots and to arise another day?
I don’t know about you. But taking the time to write this, to turn this beauty around in my mind, and to try to express it to you, I’ve drawn out joy. I’ve made it last oh-so-much longer than it would have lasted had I simply moved the flowers into the sun, opened my laptop, and began to work.
That’s what happens on the usual days. Today felt unusual, though. It felt joyful. There are more reasons why than simply a beautiful view at play. But this is enough to share for now.
I hope this moment has brought you even a little of the joy I’ve felt while expressing it.
Signing off for now,
Renae, longing to be joyful, always
***
Originally published on Medium