Last Saturday took First Prize in the annals of my memory. The wife and I got out of bed when we were ready and not when the clock alarmed us. We had a leisurely breakfast. I went off to a meeting while she involved herself with laundry. We discussed a ten mile bike ride to Art Prize at Meijer Gardens.
When I returned we each busied ourselves with inside tasks. What a difference a night’s rests can make on one’s attitude towards work. So while I did my work, the wife finished hers. There was peace in the house. I had a tinge of anxiety about a late start shortening our art viewing time, but then remembered we had the entire day. The anxiety vanished like a popped bubble.
As I worked, I thought about the Sunday dinner we would host tomorrow. We would host her dad and son, not many people, but family nonetheless. We have dinner with dad a couple times a month. I am warmed by the excellent home cooking, conversation and sense of belonging.
Then we went shopping. There was a smoothness to the pushing and filling of the cart, setting everything on the conveyor belt, packing our goods in our re-useable fabric bags and loading them into the car. Off-loading everything at home was just as smooth.
After filling the bike tires for maximum comfort, we set off on an all-day adventure
We took surface streets out to Meijer Gardens and roamed the display area, only to be told “no picture-taking.” So after a quick look around, we headed to the major hub downtown.
We strained up hills and flew into the valleys. It was a heart-pumping, leg spinning, fast viewing spin across the landscape until we reached the center of town. There we saw sidewalks thick with folks walking, talking, snapping photos and ogling artistic expressions of people’s magical imaginings.
My insides rejoiced: “the more art I see, the more I want to see.” Then we were forced into a bottleneck with too much art within inches of each other. Too many people were walking too many different directions around us. It felt like time to go.
Finally we left, pedaling home in the diminishing sunset legs rubberized by a twenty four mile two wheeled junket to and through Art Prize 2012. The day took First Prize as far as the wife and I were concerned.
Last Saturday showed me that extraordinary days pop up without notice and flow over their twenty-four hour boundary into the sacred space of memory.