Recent larger than normal rainfall amounts spurred weeds and flowers alike to new heights, exceeding their botanical potentials faster and more quickly than normal. The pasture is suddenly knee high, and the ornamentals appear to be healthier and happier than the last two seasons. Hail damage has been minimal thus far; and now you have someone to blame as the issue was first raised here. Purple mustard is thriving, as is the cheat grass to no one’s surprise. The township has begun hauling gravel for the road as it begins its own recovery process.

Hidden away in yet-to-be-mowed areas are a variety of blooming plants that generally go unnoticed. The urgency to get things mowed always creates more hurry and less observation. If not for dull blades, the need to oil and fuel the mower, and a heavy dew setting in, mowing into the dark of night would be an expectation. Two things in particular are also responsible for applying the brakes in part. The first was a splash of color that caught our attention from a small barrel cactus that refused to budge. We vaguely recall it from last season. It did not disappoint. In slowing down to avoid damaging its fuchsia blooms, three more plants were discovered in unexpected places. Without having slowed down with the mower, all would have been toast.

A second encounter affecting the mowing pursuits had to do with shutting the mower down in order to converse over some a demanding schedule. During our discussion, we suddenly became aware of a small cottontail standing stock still not more than a few steps away. Movement would have revealed it to the delight of the dogs, but it knew its role in the moment was clear. Remain still. While the lack of movement saved its life, it also reminded us to slow down and not be in a headlong rush most of the time. That awareness also led to the observation of a rufous hummingbird and a bullock’s oriole, both sightings confirmed by a birding audio app that required us to listen more closely. Attentiveness created opportunity to observe, allowing us to encounter our immediate surroundings in new ways.

Too bad we have not learned to draw similar conclusions with people. The instructions appear rather basic; slow down, look around, listen to the call, be patient, and invite others to help identify the wonder of the moment. Even barrel cacti have something to say with their dazzling colors. Likewise, the prickliest of personalities have something to offer. What will we risk in order to discover such possibility? One need not be an environmental warrior or learned biologist to appreciate creation’s beauty. It is often right before us if we choose to see beyond the surface, lower in the grass.

Looking out for others is not a mandate but a privilege. Every day is an opportunity to practice being with others and seeing them in expansive new light. Can we do the same? Emily Dickinson remarked, “Hope is the thing with feathers.” It just might also include spiny barbs and young rabbits.