We visited the Huntington Library and gardens this past week, and the roses were in bloom. My children and husband rushed from one set of blooms to the next sniffing them. I did the same until I realized I really couldn't smell anything. I haven't regained my sense of smell since having COVID. It seemed futile to continue trying to smell roses.
I was sorry for myself for a bit until I saw a brightly-dressed African American woman breathing deeply of a huge peach bloom and exclaiming, "Oh, the spices!" to no one in particular. I chuckled to myself, enjoying her enjoyment and imagining what a spicy rose might smell like.
Suddenly, the rose garden had new pleasures to offer. I stopped looking at the roses and started looking at the people enjoying the roses. And I wonder if my experience of witnessing their delight was an even greater pleasure than smelling the roses myself. And might this be true of other pleasures that I can't experience because of age or strength or life circumstances?
The world has grown bigger and its delights multiplied.
More on delighting in life: Prayer With Thanksgiving
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