Take a walk with me.
It is an early morning in June, slightly before sunrise when we set out. We are walking around the lake at the resort where I am staying with my family in Orlando. The resort is perfectly nice; it would be a good place to stay with children for a family gathering, especially if one was planning on visiting the parks and cooking in at least part of the time. I am not so certain it is a place that I will frequent at this stage in my life.
We've already walked around the small lake a couple of times, The loop is slightly over 1/2 mile and this is our third loop. We've watched a turtle glide lazily around the boardwalk on one end of the lake. But it is still early and there are only a few walkers and runners out. We are on vacation time after all. The playgrounds are empty, although just yesterday I watched a family playing checkers, the youngest child doggedly struggling with the large pieces, stubbornly refusing too much assistance from mom in his quest to be one of the "big" kids.
But even in these manicured gardens, there are things to see, treasures both grand, like the large bed of agapanthus,
and small delicacies, like the color of new leaves, still soft and velvety to the touch.
Two birds are having an extended conversation. What are they saying?
There are hot sunny yellows, calling out for attention,
and pinks that seem cool and soothing in the gray early morning light.
Then there are the shy whites, tiny blossoms hidden in masses of greenery, dainty treasures that are simultaneously seen and not seen. A small flash of white as one passes by, easily missed in the daily bustle, but showing great beauty if one takes the time to look.
Ahh, we are rounding the final bend. Soon the sun will be high and the sounds of laughter and splashing water will fill the air. It is time to stop and savor a post walk cup of coffee before beginning the day.