Delights: April 30 to May 6

April 30: I practiced yoga today in an Impressionist painting. Past my window, crepe myrtle leaves blurred a dozen shades of green. Blue sky punctured the canvas, and blades of last year’s ornamental grasses waved in the foreground. The screen of my iPhone was simply too small to show my teacher’s movements. So I surrendered my eyeglasses and wandered into 19th century France instead.

May 1: An old cottage in our neighborhood yielded its siding, bricks and radiators to salvage. But for this last day, its porch, doors and windows remained: perfect for a mom and dad to peer through the glass like homeowners — and for their two-year old son to gaze open-mouthed through the door, waiting, perhaps, for Goldilocks or (joy!) the Three Bears to invite him in.

I hope the little boy saw this in the nearby woods. Very pretty and a bit spooky too.

May 2: As a pedestrian myself, I do exhibit extravagant courtesy to street-crossers and curb-walkers. Driving along a hilly suburban road with no one behind me, I chose to stop as a man, marooned on a traffic island, finished his crossing. I was in no hurry. And I was rewarded: I had paused just long enough to meet my husband, whose bicycle — to my surprise — happened to take him to the very same road at the very same time.  

May 3: I was a little blue when I clicked onto my Zoom meeting. Sure, the sun dazzled before me, but it didn’t dispel my internal cloud. Until, that is, my meeting companion gasped: you have rainbows across your face! I peered into the tiny “self-view” and saw none. But my windowsill row of souvenir prisms — etched with New York City! Roma! Rocket ships! — did indeed refract the glorious light directly onto me. I do believe we need others, sometimes, to reveal our own possibilities. 

May 4: I thought yesterday was a pretty nice day, with a bit of evening drizzle spritzing our faces as we walked. But today! A new world welcomed me. Fresh from a pre-dawn rain, the air was cool and dry and fragrant. Yes, heat and humidity were just finishing their coffee and would hustle to work. But every neighbor I passed joined me in savoring this temporary morning miracle.

May 5: Star-flecked rubber boots, pink pants and a very wet bottom greeted the large puddle on our street. Her daddy’s friend laughed in mock horror as the toddler stomped tiny sprays toward him. Her daddy, though, did the harder thing: just letting her play, and sit, and splash and get very very wet in what she knew — at that moment — was the most wonderful playground in the world.

Our neighbor’s azaleas enjoyed the rain too.

May 6: Some old houses in our neighborhood get lucky. For over a year, my friend has worked with a handful of helpers to restore every inch of an old farmhouse. The debris collected out front, but the slow progress beguiled passers-by. Today, the front yard held nothing but bits of emerging garden — and a slim panel on the fresh concrete driveway bearing handprints of my friend and his family. We are here, the prints seemed to say, and we are home.

Readers, if you’d like to browse my past essays, consult the “word cloud” featured at the very bottom of this post. Find a theme or two that interests you and sift through the sands… To receive notifications by email each time I make a post, just scroll all the way down this page (next to the “word cloud”), look to the left and click on the black button that says “Join Me!” And if you think a friend might enjoy these, share the Delight!

10 thoughts on “Delights: April 30 to May 6

  1. Princess Gracie of Chesterfield turns 10! Please share with the boys.

    We are having a dog party! That’s what you do in lockdown. You make your dog an oat and peanut butter cake for her birthday.

    I hope you are all staying safe. I’ll never forget what you did for Gracie.

    Much love, Hazel

    On Thu, May 6, 2021 at 8:07 PM Fashioned For Joy wrote:

    > Carol Ann Siciliano posted: ” April 30: I practiced yoga today in an > Impressionist painting. Past my window, crepe myrtle leaves blurred a dozen > shades of green. Blue sky punctured the canvas, and blades of last year’s > ornamental grasses waved in the foreground. The screen of my iPho” >


    1. Dear Hazel — Thank you for the news of Princess Gracie of Chesterfield. I’m sure you both loved her birthday party! And we, of course, love both of you right back.


  2. The idea of the child jumping in the puddle…what a joy! And lovely to see a house restored and with a new family.


    1. Thank you so much, friend, for your encouraging notes (even when I’m a bit delinquent in responding…) Seeing my delights through your eyes makes them special again.


  3. I love the handprints and what they convey …
    My favourite image from your week has to be the playtime in the puddle! I can imagine the sheer exuberance & joy! and I am thinking of the father who has allowed her to do so – what must be running through his mind. How lucky they both are!


    1. Right you are, Ju-Lyn. Her bottom, legs and hands were as soggy as her smile was broad. I’ve seen father and daughter in that exact puddle before. They know where the joy is! And they share it with the rest of us.


      1. Ah! They are regular rain dancers!


  4. I love your friend’s handprints idea.


    1. Dear friend — Thank you for your comment and for reading my blog. (And please forgive my woeful delay in responding.) Your note reminds me of the shoe prints my Dad made from my one-year old feet in fresh concrete. When my Mom and Dad redid the walkway, Dad gave me the slap of concrete (shoe prints + 1960 date). You remind me that I need to find it in my garden! Again, thank you.

      Liked by 1 person

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