Like a red flower in a black and white picture

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Whizzing here and there while driving, preoccupied with problems, ideas or random thoughts, it is easy to miss the details in our surroundings. This became apparent when I drove my 2-year-old granddaughter, Rosie, back to her mom’s house yesterday. Her speech is delayed so labeling things increases her vocabulary. Oh, what a treasure of “things” we saw while stuck in traffic on Route 117.

Creeping along the road, different things struck me in the same way a black and white picture with one object painted read draws one’s eyes to that object. Among a patch of fall’s brown and dying flowers, one vibrant yellow flower glowed in the sunlight. It was a Lazy Susan in all of its glory.

“Yellow flower” I pointed out as Rosie looked and said “Ello Frower.” Next to it was an amazing rock wall, not the kind one climbs, but the kind that was built back in the 1800s to mark territory.

“Rocks” I said as Rosie repeated me. This puzzle of rocks, laboriously and carefully stacked upon one another, was a marvel not previously noticed. Next, stopped in front of a meticulously kept house, I said “BLUE house” as Rosie repeated, “BOO hows.”

What conscientious people must live in such a nice house with great curb appeal, so much unlike our own home with the patches of missing grass and withering plants. The next house had two humongous pots of vivid orange mums out front, the aroma of which I could almost smell. Rosie repeated my “Orange flower” and giggled at our game.

We drove slowly near a farm (on a major road, no less!) Rosie herself pointed to the barns and fields and said “Cow,” (although no cows were visible.)

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