The trick today, it seems to me, is to try and make a big deal out of a little. Because the big deals that are hunkering above and around us: war in Ukraine, overturn of Roe, school shootings, parade shootings, everywhere shootings, Trumpism still holding on, climate crisis, Covid, Monkeypox, Polio. All those big deals are screaming their preeminence. Bombarded daily, it is hard to observe and honor the little things that are there if we are willing to look through the fog, tornado, the tsunami that seek to engulf us:

• The perennial hibiscus just opening one of its dish-sized blossoms, an explosion of color like those July 4th fireworks.

• The rock garden I created out of a patch of dirt at the dead-end of our street. Well, look at you, all gussied up, a little wild, no formal structured design here. Just ideas popping up amid the rocks and boulders punctuating the space with beauty.

• The music my 15-year-old grandson strums on his new guitar. So in love he is with this instrument and the possibilities it opens up. Never had a formal lesson. Just watched his dad playing the guitar and decided: I’m gonna do that. And he has. And it is a blessing.

• Having the big dog I swore would never be on my bed, cozy up at night and snuggle; she is so happy, I have to be happy as well.

• Walking on the boards with the sand and surf beside me. Feeling the warmth of the sun, the embrace of the breeze. Noting the grasses taking hold in the dunes. Hearing that special music: the kids screaming their joy from the waves as they ride them to the shore; the seagulls squawking overhead.

• Playing Bananagrams with the family around the kitchen table. Rushing to complete the grid before those very clever grandchildren. The whooping and calling out all the signals. Everyone miffed when the winner shouts: BANANAS! to declare victory.

• Noting the beauty of Mama Nature: The sunset as it reaches the earth’s curve in the west. The pinks and golds and oranges and reds. A little celebration before evening sets in. Then searching for the fireflies out in the grasses; twinkling on earth before their sisters light up the night sky. The birds and butterflies, and dragonflies. And summer showers gifting the garden with an afternoon drink.

Take note. Place them in your memory bank. You may need to make a withdrawal after the evening news.