This Beautiful Little Life
Submitted by Julia Kathleen Craig Cole
Yesterday, things took a turn. My emotions got the best of me, and I needed some space—other than these walls, this couch, and this surgical recovery.
I took myself for a quick drive in the waning light of an Alabama June day. Temps were just right for windows down, sunroof open, and my hair swirling around in the breeze. These Lawrence County backroads may not look like much to some, but to me… they look like absolute heaven—especially with the last golden rays of sunshine coming in sideways from the west. It’s called the “golden hour” for a reason.
The monsoon that’s been our summer so far has produced a bumper crop of Queen Anne’s Lace, growing in bunches, tangled by the winds. And Black-Eyed Susans by the millions. I stopped near a bouquet close to the road and watched some bees work the flowers over quickly—last bits of pollen sticking to their fuzzy legs for the day as they hurried home to beat the dark.
I drove over a little bridge, peering off the side to see muddy waters flowing off to meet bigger waters, taking bits of our beautiful county with them as they go. Knowing there are particles of the LC in the Gulf amazes me!
As I crossed the bridge, the trees crowded around the road and created a living, breathing tunnel of leaves and twigs, leaving the road in darkness—even with the sun holding strong to the day. The air was cooler, smelling of moss and earth, and a few lightning bugs had already ventured out. Twinkle, little wondrous gift from God!
I made a U-turn and started back home. I’m not technically cleared to drive yet, but I had been left unsupervised—and I needed a change of scenery. Back toward home, my wheels rolling over this land I love.
Past a giant magnolia in full bloom. I’m unfortunate that it wasn’t close enough to share its fragrance with me, but so blessed that I could gawk at the stark white blooms against the dark, glossy leaves.
The road twisted and turned between fields of corn about to tassel out and pastures full of calves giving their mamas a run for their money. On past an old schoolmate’s property, where I saw her son’s name on the sign beside some chicken houses.
I pulled off to let a car pass. I was lollygagging like a pro, and they had tired of my slow progress.
As I ventured on, there on the right was a man sitting on his porch. The sunlight reflected off the window behind him, glowing gold and yellow. I hope he felt like the king of his domain as much as he looked like it—proprietor of his own little patch of heaven.
As I got closer to home, the surroundings became more familiar, and I was tempted to see what I always see. But I forced myself to look closer… try harder… look outside the box—at things that deserve attention.
An old cedar fence post bathed in sunlight the color of honey. How the June day dropped below the horizon just beside that cottonwood, light glinting between the tousled leaves. A bird. A song. A friend. My life.
My beautiful, awe-inspiring, wonderful, amazing little life.
Here in the LC.
Lawrence County, Alabama.
Home.
