They obviously value the computers more where I work than the people because the temperature is just above freezing most of the time. I shouldn't have to wear a sweater in June but almost everyone has one hanging on the back of their chair. I work on the third floor and it's a good walk just to get out of the building so, most days, I shiver as I rush for the door to get outside into the warmth.
Just last night...
I swipe my badge, move through the revolving door and hesitate for just a moment to enjoy the heat and try to remember where I parked my car. This week I've had a late schedule so have had to park almost all the way in the back. I think it's to the right and not far from the paved walkway and set my sights on just getting away from that hell hole. (Yep, hate the place. Oh, well, it's a check when some people are struggling so shouldn't complain. But I do!)
Then the sweet smell of cedar makes me stop and look around. The landscapers have spread fresh cedar chips around the beautiful plantings in the little flower garden just outside the door. I particularly enjoy the hydrangea which catch my eye as I stop to swipe my way in when I arrive. The purples and pinks are a feast and give me a lift every day. But why haven't I ever noticed the roses?
As I look down at the cedar chips I notice several small rose bushes covered with blooms and pluck a petal, crush it between my fingers and brush it under my nose. Not a strong fragrance but rose, nonetheless. And as I stand there - and I hesitate to say it but - stopping to smell the roses, I look up and see spanish moss lazily flowing in the breeze as it clings to a crepe myrtle with it's soft, pink clusters of tiny blossoms.
The moss hangs there so ethereal, so free, swaying in the wind and in that second my mind is calmed and my urge to rush is gone and the hurt that I felt earlier in the day is soothed and for an instant, only just an instant, I see myself.
And in that instant, only just an instant, I don't want so much to leave. But, Life takes me by the hand and I point my key ring into the vastness of the parking lot and click and my dear little car blinks her lights at me. "Come on, Sharon, it's time to go home. What's wrong with you? Let's hit the road, girl!"
"I'm coming, Sweetie, but the cedar just smelled so sweet and the spanish moss, oh, the spanish moss!"