Today the conversation at Lunch Bunch somehow turned to gardens.  In particular, one person was relaying how hard this winter was on her beloved gardenia bush.  It died and she was going to have to get her son to come take it out for her — it grew far larger than she could manage by herself.  It brought to mind the three dead shrubs right out front of my friend’s condo (where my puppy Rufus and I temporarily are residing in the guest room).  Several times I have wondered when the condo landscape company will come replace the eye-sore of the dead bushes.  Last week I was so tired of looking at these dead bushes that I asked my friend when they might be replaced.  No telling was the answer, and I rolled my eyes thinking that if I had any jurisdiction over those bushes, I’d NEVER allow them to be dead out there for who knows how long.  I was convinced the landscape company must have no idea what they’re doing!

Tonight we were sitting out on the front porch right behind the dead shrubs reading before the sun went down.  It’s a great treat to just relax with inspiring words at the end of a long day.  (Check my GoodReads to see what ones I most enjoy!)  Rufus was on my lap but he wasn’t having any of it.  He was doing nothing but squirming.  I know he only just turned one year old last week, but why can’t he ever just sit quietly on my lap when I want to unwind???  I’d finally had enough and put him down on the ground.  As soon as his little paws hit the ground, he was digging his nose into the dead leaves under the dead bush.  Great.  Another good reason for the thing to be ripped out.  Though I tried to get Ru to leave it, he burrowed his little snout deeper into that dead bush.  And the next thing I know two baby bunnies popped up from no where!  Suddenly it all made sense why a rabbit was sitting on the porch before we went out there to read.  Her babies were being bedded down for the night under the bush I thought was absolutely good for nothing.

Her act left me thinking.  What I see as an eye-sore, that momma rabbit saw as home.  What I wanted upgraded for a new thing, that momma and her babies knew as the perfect spot for their greyish-brown coats safely to blend right in.  It makes me pause to consider what else I might be missing in this world — what else I might overlook because I want it to be one thing, but beautifully it is exactly what another needs.  Hmm.  I can spend some time pondering that.  It’s a good reminder on perspective — a good reminder to look again just in case a wonderful surprise is hiding from plain view.

What about you?  What wonderful surprise might you be overlooking?