On Sunday I was outside before the sunrise. As I stood looking to the pinkening sky to the east, a fog rose from the prairie grass just 100 yards from me-- its genesis right before my eyes. A deer walked into that fog. Birds were singing all around. I remembered a lesson from my high school band teacher, Mr. Paulisch, playing a symphony and telling us to train our ears to hear one instrument at a time. I trained my ears and pulled out different bird songs one at a time. A small, nondescript sparrow landed a few feet from me and startled me with the most lovely calls-- unexpected from such a drab, brown bird.
Three jets made their way east over the prairie-- maybe looking down on "fly over" country. Then the sun rose like a neon pink laser-- a pin point piercing over the praire. The world exploded in color-- the white silo turned pink and casting a 1/2 mile shadow across the field.
Later, at church I was surprised to read in the bulletin that I was the day's lector-- reading scripture about our responsibilities to our children. Muffins and coffee afterwards with the good people of Trinity. I walked with the kids to Bonnie's grocery on main street-- collecting an entourage of little kids along the way and the cell phone number of a local stone mason. After gettting our groceries we went over to the Clinton Depot playground. Our three kids the nucleaus for what became a gathering of 16 kids--a couple of whom went back to Bonnies for ballons. The waterballons were flying-- the ground around the water pump covered with multi-colored scraps of ballons. Lovely kid confetti.
When we came home, I made a batch of homemade mozzarella cheese, picked some basil from the garden, took a loaf of freshly baked crusty bread out of the oven and watched Star Trek TNG with my kids.
It was the best birthday of my entire life.
I had been asked to consider running for the open Minnesota District 20A House of Representative's seat.
I decide not to run.
I would hold still.
At least for now.