Stolen Moments and Cleansing Breezes


Stolen Moments and Cleansing Breezes By Cathleen Elise Rossiter

“Ordinary riches can be stolen; real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.” Oscar Wilde

As the mid-summer breezes make their way up the hill from the valley below, a tiny, soft breeze wanders

Woman Reading, Asta Nørregaard. Norwegian (1853 - 1933)
Woman Reading, Asta Nørregaard. Norwegian (1853 – 1933)

down my garden path and finds its way to me seated at my red wicker desk under the shade of the cherry tree, lingering for just a moment longer to refresh and revive my weary soul. The breeze carries with it the softest scent of the neighbor’s grass being mowed at the far end of the street above me. I catch the eternal scent of summer’s essence as another breeze winds itself around me, fiddling with a loose strand of my bangs hanging in front of my eyes.

Stolen moments, like this one, are the ones that always seem to provide the deepest satisfaction to me. I relish the simple joys with which I try to fill my day – the little green fruit bowl on the corner of my desk that I filled with this morning’s clippings of oregano seed-heads, the birds trying to figure out how to access the new birdbath I have hidden beneath the mountain laurel, chancing upon a forgotten letter from a dear friend prompting a telephone call that lasts far longer than either of us expected, a quiet moment to read in front of the open window while waiting for the next batch of Toll House cookies to finish baking – each one becoming a treasure to add to my vast store of riches. These stolen moments refresh my soul, cleanse my mind, and remind me that life is only as difficult as I allow it to be.

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