Yesterday evening, as I hauled the bucket of duck food out to the lake, a squadron of newly flying ducks came catapulting through the air toward me, each wanting to be first to the food. None of them graceful, they landed like cannonballs in the lake at my feet, some head first, covering me in a tidal wave of lake scum and algae. I was a mess. But I was laughing uncontrollably as I headed for the shower, feeling the whimsical magic of the messiness of the moment, delighted.
Life is messy. Beautifully, uncontrollably messy.