I've been back at work for a couple of weeks now. I hit the ground running, which was a sign that my absence had been noticed and appreciated. But as a result, I've spent my workdays facing a computer and typing, and not much else. Not the best sort of situation, but that's what happens when you miss six weeks of work. It's easy to get caught up in the daily routines, and forget to enjoy the little signs that the world is a wondrous place. I needed a reminder.
A ladybug was flying around my office this afternoon. I wasn't sure how this creature arrived, but suddenly there it was, flying about. I went back to my report, my typing the only sound in the quiet.
Then the ladybug landed, right on the corner of my laptop, where I usually put my wrists while typing. She(ladybugs are all "she" to me) wasn't a red ladybug, like I'm used to. This one was pink, and apparently determined to get my attention. I had to pause in my typing efforts, to avoid disturbing the pink ladybug. I was entranced, work forgotten.
Since I was taking a break, I reached for my glass of water and took a long drink.
And while I was drinking my water, I thought that perhaps my visitor might be thirsty after flying all this way to visit me. I decided that it wouldn't be courteous not to at least offer a sip. I put a small drop of water on my finger and placed it on the laptop near the the pink ladybug, (but not where it would short out anything).
When the pink ladybug moved over to the drop of water and seemed to be drinking, I raised my glass in a toast. We sat there, quietly drinking together, insect and human. I watched the pink ladybug finish her drink, wash her mandibles, and then sidle away from the water. She sat quietly on the warmth of my laptop, and I sat quietly in my chair, and all was right with the world at that particular moment.
The phone rang, and the moment was over. I didn't see the pink ladybug fly away, but suddenly she was gone. If she had stayed, I would have attempted to carry her back out into the bright spring day, where she belonged. Instead I whispered, "Thank you," and went back to my reports with a smile.