Mood:
rushedTopic: "Fall Ball" (3)
The hummingbird feeder, for the first time in many days, doesn't need to be refilled. It will be several hours before patches of sunshine will be warm enough for the chair, that sits empty now, to serve as a fitting point of observation for the goings-on in the Gardens of the Shire. Ground and aerial rodents dart back-and-forth as the avian visitors compete for the seeds intended for immediate consumption and/or storage. Although Frodo is want to tarry, Fiona and Mick, the Wonder Dog, race through the dew-laden stems of grass, leaving behind tell-tale pawprints weaving ribbons of passage in the sunlight. There are games afoot, and cooler temperatures demand action both fast and furious.
Although there is less time available for the tasks at hand, there is greater desire to mix need with appreciation. Colors and breezes change around every corner, and Frodo knows that there will be fewer and fewer moments such as these, and how he laments that fact. Mick, the Wonder Dog, meets the eyes of Frodo with the challenge of the playmate, and, perhaps, of one who worships his friend. These are grand moments to be shared, and no one wants to waste a precious second.
"I have only just a minute, only 60 seconds in it,
Forced upon me, can't refuse it.
Didn't seek it, didn't choose it,
But it's up to me to use it.
I must suffer if I lose it,
Give account if I abuse it.
Just a tiny little minute,
But eternity is in it.
What are you going to do with your minute?"
---Dr. Benjamin F. Mays
