His fuzzy, docile head poked out, in between the two red fence boards. His eyes pleaded for attention. It was impossible not to stop and scratch behind those woolly ears and stroke the length of his soft back. But he only poked his face into my world for a brief moment, and then he was off, running around again, playing with his enclosure-mate.
I think I've finally come to treasure those sorts of in between moments - transition times where one foot rests in one world... and the other rests in a different one... and in those brief, fleeting times, I feel a part of both all at the same time. I treasure those moments because it is the closest I can come to having my cake... and eating it, too.
Cruising slowly out of the harbor, waving fierce goodbyes, was another one of those in between moments. We weren't completely gone, we could still see our friends and an island we'd only began to explore and enjoy and love, we wished to stay longer and never knowing if we'd have a similar opportunity in the future - but we were also on our way to the next place, anticipating a change and a new routine, as well as excited for the fantastic fun and adventure that we knew awaited us there.
I hear many complain about how hard transition can be.
They speak truth, for it is often uncomfortable and challenging.
Another option, however, is cherishing and labeling beloved those in between bridges... especially when life is full of so many of them.
*ferry photo taken by my friend Jenny Hall
Head on over to Lisa Jo's and write along with me and many others this week... or, as she says:
"Got five minutes? Let’s write. Let’s finger paint with words...
Let’s just write and not worry if it’s just right or not. Here’s how to play along:
1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Go leave some comment props for the five minute artist who linked up before you."