Each week I drive out to Palm City, Florida to see my mom and take her for a roll in her wheelchair outside between the grassy fields. The openness of the land, its greenery, the sun and wind around us, reminds me of being Up North.
We Florida transplants hail from Michigan’s countryside of dirt roads, wild asparagus, and cornfields, and the strong smell of cow manure ripe in the breeze along Green Road in Goodrich.
We were always outside. It was a place of play, work, and imagination. Today, the whispering winds of Palm City bring a calmness and peace that can’t even be touched in town.
To really see the great beauty of nature, one must walk in it, not drive. Life must be slowed down and enjoyed. That’s how we see the little things of great beauty—especially, the hummingbird.
I bend over toward Mom’s ear and ask, “Do you want to go back?”
“No,” she always answers.