When the Unexpected Happens

I walk outside and hear a woodpecker, see a squirrel augment his find for winter, and listen to several leaves spiral in the wind—or did I merely see them and imagine how they sounded.

Then a rabbit runs and stops, stares at me and sits statue still as if that way I won't notice. I hadn't expected him to hold his ground that way, I hadn't anticipated his lack of fear. I expected a different response.

Last week I sat next to Marylyn, a woman I often sat next to at a weekly Bible study. We spoke about painting——watercolor and mixed media.

"How long," she said, "does it take you to complete a mixed media painting?"

Time—
"It depends," I said, "if there's a lot of drying time, if I add layers and layers, if I take my time."

Marilyn painted representational watercolors— while my paintings were more abstract. I liked the way she captured landscapes and flowers. Last spring she brought in photos of her work and I brought photos of my work on an IPAD.

"I'd like to do that," she said, "I can show you how." Summer came and we never got around to that.

Time—

Then an email from the church— Marilyn died. Just like that—unexpected.

Unplanned.
Unexpected.
You'll be missed—