This morning I took the dog for our daily exercise regime and couldn’t resist this enormous bloom on a stalk that stood above my five-foot-two frame.
I felt as if I was looking at this wonder through the eyes of a mesmerized toddler.
This is literally stopping to smell the roses, I thought.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and smiled as I snapped a few photos with my handy dandy iPhone.
Newly energized, I finished the jog home.
How do you stop to smell the roses, either literally or figuratively?
Soon…