Commonplace Miracles

This morning, while Delycia walked along River Road, I walked in St. Patrick’s Cemetery overlooking the Mystic River, and I was fortunate to see these marvelous scenes:

swirls and cushions of clouds above the cemetery …

the river in its glassy distance …

and sunlight displaying its matchless skills …

However, later in the day, at home, I noticed other miracles – more commonplace ones that I usually overlook. Here’s a simple but miraculous scene in our bedroom …

nothing fancy or unusual, just some simple furniture and a lovely lady taking a nap in lovely, everyday light. As my favorite poet, Walt Whitman, wrote,

“Why, who makes much of a miracle? As for me, I know of nothing else but miracles. To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle.”

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