Any questions about why we love summer in Wisconsin?

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My dog loves it at the cabin. It’s like she reclaims her youth during these summer months, chasing squirrels and exploring our wooded shoreline. But her greatest joy lives behind the boulders in our landscaping.

A family of chipmunks resides there every year, and bounces playfully from rock to rock, scurrying into the crevices whenever danger approaches. Their beckoning “chip, chip, chip” is like a homing device for my 13-year-old rat terrier, who perks up from her slumber on the couch as soon as she hears it.

She races to the windows - Gargantuan five-foot tall things that sit just a foot off the ground. She has a perfect vantage point from there, to witness all the chipping and hopping and scurrying. When she sees this, the growling stops and the barking ensues - surely waking up everyone on the lake. Sound carries over water.

She actually got one once - poor thing. She shook it mercilessly and then stood there barking like, “OhmygoshcanyoubelievewhatIjustdid?”

She doesn’t catch them anymore, but she does give them a heart-racing run for their money. They mostly just tease her now, and have probably fashioned earplugs to protect themselves from her shrill and rhythmic bark.

And after 30 minutes of chasing, scratching at the rocks, and stretching her nose into the crevices as far as she can, she’ll give up and return to the comfort of her couch, resting up for the next time the chipmunks chip.

Though I shrivel in embarrassment as I think of the numerous neighbors that are rudely awakened by this morning exercise, I have to smile as I think of the pure joy my geriatric pet feels when she hunts for chipmunks.

Which means her joy becomes mine.

Each weekend I share moments that help me journey toward occasional “presence” — explained in A New Earth — to enjoy life and appreciate small gifts. This post is also a part of Fussy’s Happiness Project every Thursday.

We all got a lesson in respect when we visited Arlington cemetery on Memorial Day weekend. Although I believe it’s always a very serious place, it’s perhaps even more somber on days specifically designed to honor soldiers who’ve given their lives to keep us free. We walked among dozens of other people as we made our way to the Tomb of the Unknown Solder. But you could hear even the soft shuffle of our steps because it was so silent.

The normal changing of the guards was altered on this day, to bring forward wreaths that had been given to honor the fallen veterans. We witnessed a constant procession of these wreaths, in awe of the precision practiced by the soldiers. What an honor to be one of those selected to guard this memorial.

Washington DC series:
View from Washington Monument
Mount Vernon
National Archives - Declaration of Independence
Sculpture Gardens
Arlington Cemetery - Unknown Soldier

(This is a copy of the Declaration - the original was in a low-lit booth that was nothing but blur without flash.)

We have a new perspective on the 4th of July, having now seen the real Declaration of Independence and the National Archives. Craig noticed representatives from only 12 of the colonies signed their names. How fun he noticed! Rhode Island was missing.

We watched the movie National Treasure after we returned home, and it was so fun to see all the familiar places!

It was well-worth the long line to get in.

Happy Independence Day!!

Washington DC series:
View from Washington Monument
Mount Vernon
National Archives - Declaration of Independence
Sculpture Gardens

I took this photo along our rustic roadside on the way to town. It seems every time I meander these three miles, I discover a new wildflower bursting with color.

The lilac season is nearly over, but looking at this photo, I can almost conjure their beautiful scent. It reminds me of cotton candy. Our neighbor at the cabin has the white variety and some days when the breeze is just right, I’ll catch a whiff of these amazing domestic flowers, from yards away. It’s like opening a present. I can’t think about anything else, during the moment the fragrance overwhelms my nose.

My appreciation for flowers has changed throughout the years — along with many other things. Priorities constantly shift and in recent years it seems for me there’s more space for simple gifts.

Fresh flowers. As a child I picked them. For years I ignored them. Now I photograph them. And one day I’ll learn all their names.

Each weekend I share moments that help me journey toward occasional “presence” — explained in A New Earth — to appreciate the small gifts life brings. This post is also a part of Fussy’s Happiness Project every Thursday.