Easter Morning Grace

This Easter morning woke up slowly, a series of grays and passing showers.

Slowly, too, I went out to run before the sun came up, somewhere behind the clouds. I saw no one. I passed no one. I barely heard slight traffic sounds on the nearby highway.

Until I turned the corner on Callas Verde. The most beautiful guitar music floated through the morning. I  saw a young man seated on the very edge of a folding chair, between the cars in his open garage.

Intently his heart and hands created sounds that held me in place.  He strummed and riffed, and my breath matched his rhythm. He reached a break and lifted his eyes.

"Good morning. That's beautiful. Mind if I stand here and listen to more?"

"Please do. I'm just playing 'til the boy is up."

What better words for Easter Sunday. Amazing grace.

Love and blessings,

Comments

[Steve Harper]

What a great post!

Ripple On!!!

Steve