Just a man and his dog.

Across the street and one house down there lives a very very old man, his wife, and his dog. They're somewhere between the ages of 95 and 100 I think. I'm not positive. But the old man still does all his own yard work, the old woman loves to have you over anytime to talk, and I don't think anything about them has changed at all since we've lived here. About 17 years or longer.

And everyday the old man and his dog (who, by the way, I think is about as old as the man) take a walk up and down the street and around the block. The man is old and bent over and withered. He walks slowly with an easy pace. The dog has a leash on, but the man doesn't use it. It just sort of slowly drags along behind on the ground as the dog slowly pads along after his master.

The man is always dressed in a pair of overalls and a plaid shirt. Always with a farmer's hat on top.

The dog's as fat as a cow and only as tall as a fire hydrant. He has black...or grey, and brown large spots covering his fur. He's always panting during the walk, but in a way it looks like he's smiling.

Just a man and his dog.

They don't just walk by everything. They often stop. Sometimes for the dog's frequent trips to relieve his bladder, sometimes to talk to a neigbor they happen to be passing, sometimes it's to watch workers slowly cut down an old tree.

They don't really have a distinct purpose in this walk. No getting from here to there. Not even, I don't think, for only the sake of getting exercise. I think they walk because that's what they do. What they've always done. I think they do it for the enjoyment of sniffing out what's going on in the neigborhood as well as just getting to spend quiet company enjoying eachothers presence.

Just a man and his dog.

Sometimes I like to watch them. I know it sounds creepy, but I often like to sit out quietly on my porch and watch the world pass by. It's times like these, where I sit alone with my thoughts, watching the man across the steet take care of his garden or walk his dog that I feel like I've been transported back in time. Back to a time where time wasn't everything. There was no rush, life wasn't run on what you had to do and how long you had to do it. When there was time for the simple pleasures of drinking a lemonade on the porch and saying hello as the neigbors walked past.

Sometimes I listen as my mom stops to talk to the mail-man about his surgery next week. She tells him she'll pray for him, and you know it's the truth. She will pray for him, she'll remind us all to pray for him. And we will, and we'll ask him later how it went. And notice which days he shows up for work.

Sometimes I watch with tears in my eyes when the new neigbors that just moved in cut down and old strong sturdy tree that provided shade for decades.

Sometimes I watch my other neigbor two houses down take her weekly walk with all her lovely foster children. She's a good foster parent, even as she gets older. They all love her. She even adopted a little girl she just couldn't give up. That little girl comes by every now and then. Selling fund-raisers or handing out her neigborhood newspaper she like to print.

Sometimes I wonder about the old artsy truck that just sits in front of another house across the street. It's put together almost like a puzzle: the parts all look as though they came from different places. All different colors. And still it has a timeless look as though it's going to out last every other car on the street. I wish to someday own that truck.

Sometimes I just lay in the grass in my front yard and look up at the sky. Especially when it's really hot and the sun is so bright you have to shut your eyes tight. Then all there is left to do is to feel, to smell, to listen. Pondering each sound, soaking in the rays, sniffing the warm grass, paying grateful attention to each passing breeze.

It's the simple pleasures of life. Those truly homey mmoments, those time machine moments. Going to the diner called norma's down the block all decorated from the 50's. Swinging in the back yard on the swing-set you've had since before you can remember. Saying hello to the next-door neigbors dogs as they bark at you undendingly in a perfect chorus. Chasing kittens to discover their secret hideout. Putting food out for the stray dog. Watching the cars pass up and down the street. Smiling when the same car passes twice watching the worried faces inside: obviously lost.

But really, it's in taking the time to notice these things that the true pleasure lies. Observing just the events in themselves would mean nothing had you not waited for them, and then slowly took your time pondering them. That's where the appreciation comes from. The enjoyment, the contentment, the discovering of the simple pleasures.

So I challenge you this week; if you have any time, even just a little, go sit outside on your front porch. Observe things, notice things, ponder things. Even take your bible out with you and just sit, read, smell, feel, ponder, wonder, enjoy.

And maybe, just maybe, you'll find out a little bit more about the tiny corner of the world you've been placed in.

Perhaps you'll even discover something you could pray for.

Just try it, and then tell me what you learned.

That's all I have to say. Farewell for now. :)