“I was trying to finish tying up the last two tomato plants in my garden. The late evening was already getting dark enough that Garrison was holding a flashlight so I could see.”
Of course, Kilee Johnson, a self-described “workaholic” had worked well over a full day in her management position at the Sam’s Club corporate headquarters. This late spring evening was her time to be with her family and pour new energy into her soul by tending to her amazing vegetable garden. As with all things she focuses on, her attention was singular: finish this one more task. She was racing to get to the end of the same imaginary daily finish line it seems as if so many of us are driven toward. Garrison, her husband, was seeing something completely different, during the same time and in the same place.
While holding the flashlight to illuminate the twine and vines, he took a moment to look east, over their backyard fence, toward an expansive view of taller green grass being sporadically illuminated. It was their evening-twinkling-season.
The evening-twinkling-season in Arkansas is the time of year when the fireflies come out to brighten our planet with their bioluminescence. As darkness begins its daily creep, overrunning the sunlight, these amazing insects begin to shine; one here and one there, often by the hundreds. It is a delightful spectacle.
“Stop and come look at this!,” Garrison said as he abandoned his flashlight duties to gaze over their backyard fence to take in the evening sparkle.
“Do I need to come right now? Can’t I finish stringing these two plants first? They’re the only two I have left to complete,” Kilee begged.
“Come now!,” he replied, somehow knowing that what he was experiencing would change everything about the day to each of the witnesses.
She came. Both of them stood, wide-eyed watching bright dashes of illumination dancing above and through silhouettes of bladed grass. It was a moment to cherish that Kilee would have missed without Garrison’s insightful insistence.
“I was trying to finish tying up the last two tomato plants in my garden. The late evening was already getting so dark that Garrison was holding a flashlight so I could see. I don’t know why I don’t take the time to see the daily miracles around me!,” Kilee said as she narrated her experience, while looking out across the magnificence of the sun setting over the Great Salt Lake during a visit to Utah. “Daily Miracles are there for each one of us to savor and enjoy if we will simply notice, stop and become a witness. They transform plain-old-life into a kaleidoscope of wonder and splendor.”
Lynn Butterfield lives in Erda and is a managing broker for a real estate company.