Yes, that is a lost, faded froggie pencil-topper on the side of the road. At first I thought it may have been a crushed robin egg, but of course not. It is autumn. At first, I walked on past it, but curiosity made me retrace my steps, lean down, take a closer look, and if I hadn’t – I would have missed it.

Yes, there are even more milkweed seed bursting than yesterday. I couldn’t resist filming their angel-hair webs floating in the wind with, admittedly, internal commentary about the hum of a single distant car. Then, just to my left, I noticed two wasps waltzing atop the last of this season’s flower. With my video still running, I could easily record their dance. If I hadn’t been drawn first to the milkweed seed, I would have missed it.

Deciding to return on the low road of rocks and wildflowers that eventually leads to a small park, I saw two men and a dog sitting on my – excuse me – the bench. Twinges of resentment show up. So does an ounce or two of my (ridiculous) social anxiety. As I got closer I sensed kindness. Unexpectedly, this feeling of ease and kindness seemed to be emanating from them, surrounding the scene and me. I stopped and quietly asked, would you like a picture of you two and the doggie? They lit up and answered, why yes, that would be nice.

As one of the gentlemen handed me a phone, the puppy (whose name I heard to be Gerdie) posed perfectly upfront and between the two, and why – I just couldn’t help but smile. I am so glad I pushed past my initial crabby and shy feelings because, had I not, I would have missed it.

I didn’t want to walk today. I was lured into a trance of staring out across the meadows and mountains and writing, scrolling – okay, maybe more scrolling than writing, and sipping strong black tea. I don’t know what magic spell or body memory interrupted the malaise as I donned my shoes and cap and Kleenex and headed out. Sometimes a moment of initiative becomes a doorway to the most wonderous things. I’m glad I didn’t miss it.