The Sun’s Travels by Robert Louis Stevenson
The sun is not abed, when I
At night upon my pillow lie;
Still round the earth his way he takes,
And morning after morning makes.
While here at home, in shining day,
We round the sunny garden play,
Each little Indian sleepyheads
Is being kissed and put to bed.
And when at eve I rise from tea,
Day dawns beyond the Atlantic Sea;
And all the children in the West
Are getting up and being dressed.
There is a skipper butterfly hiding in plain sight in this photo. I was reviewing my photos from the weekend and that was when I noticed it. It was a really cool surprise. And it kind of reminds me just how much I go through like an don’t notice things. I am often times so consumed with things in life that I miss out on the still quiet little things that happen. I want to just sit and be awed by everything, from the laughter of children to little skipper butterflies. I hope that will happen for you today, that something will cause you to be filled with awe and wonder!
Have a blessed day!