Grateful for Joy Shared

“All who joy would win must share it.  Happiness was born a twin.”  William Blake. Someone left flowers by the road and trusted strangers to receive them with care. That feels like such a gentle picture of shared joy. Visit www.ThankU.io for the full story. #ThankU.io #Grateful #SantaCruzMountains

Grateful for the small gifts people leave for one another, I keep thinking about this little flower stand outside Astoria, Oregon. It was simple and handmade, filled with bright flowers, a thank-you box, and quiet trust. No one was there to manage the exchange. Someone simply left beauty by the road and trusted that others would receive it with care. Sometimes the gifts we leave behind continue their journey long after we have walked away, and I am grateful whenever life lets me see that happen. July began with joy returning in small ways, then moved through memory, saying yes, receiving what was already here, and noticing the gifts that find us. Now, as the month comes to a close, I keep thinking about the gifts we leave for one another, often without knowing who will receive them or how far they may travel.

A few years ago, I visited my dear friend Mary in Astoria, Oregon, for her sixtieth birthday. Mary is one of my soul sisters. We found each other more than forty years ago when I was going through a painful times, and she became one of my lifelines. Since then, we have shared our hearts through joy, heartbreak, change, laughter, and all the ordinary miracles that make a friendship sacred. When I went to visit her, we spent several days simply being together. We talked, laughed, played, and enjoyed the beauty around her little house overlooking the Astoria harbor.

One of the photos I brought home was of a roadside flower stand. It was simple and handmade, with jars of bright flowers, a small thank-you box, and the quiet trust that someone would take what they needed and leave something in return. No clerk. No checkout counter. No suspicion. Just flowers offered to strangers. I loved it immediately. It felt like a tiny act of faith in the goodness of people. Someone had grown or gathered beauty and left it by the road for whoever happened to pass by. That is such a lovely picture of shared joy.

The second story began much closer to home, here in the Santa Cruz Mountains. When Jim and I moved here, we had a sweet old Cocker Spaniel named Flower. She was not a mountain dog, and hiking was not her idea of happiness. After Flower passed, we eventually decided it was time to find dogs who could share this mountain life with us. We went to the Westminster Dog Show at the Cow Palace and looked at every breed. The corgis caught my heart, especially the Cardigan Welsh Corgis with their sturdy bodies, big ears, and beautiful long tails. Toby came first, and Piper followed eighteen months later.

Cardigans are working dogs, and working dogs need work. So, I made Toby and Piper a promise. We would hike every day. For fifteen years, we did exactly that. Three miles a day, in rain, snow, summer heat, early mornings, and misty afternoons. We hiked before work when I had to drive to San Francisco. We hiked when the leaves were gold, when the trails were muddy, and when the sun was barely up. Once we even saw three mountain lions at sunrise, which quickly ended our sunrise hiking habit. Piper usually ran ahead to inspect the trail, while Toby stayed close beside me, keeping watch. Together they gave me thousands of happy trails.

When Toby passed, I wanted to give something back to the place that had given us so much joy. I learned that I could donate a bench to Sanborn Skyline County Park, and after a long process, a bench was placed near one of our favorite trails. The plaque says simply: Toby and Piper, Happy Trails. Every time I see someone sitting there, eating lunch, resting, reading, or simply looking out into the trees, I smile. They do not know Toby and Piper. They do not know about fifteen years of muddy paws, wagging tails, and mountain adventures. They simply know they have found a place to rest.

A few days ago, my new little dog, Ghost, and I stopped by that bench before our hike. Later, after we had walked for a while, I realized one of my hiking poles was missing. I went back to the car, checked, and discovered it was not there. When we returned to the trailhead, two mountain bikers were sitting on the Toby and Piper bench eating lunch. As I walked by, one of them called out, “Is this your hiking pole?” They had noticed it, seen that it matched the one I was carrying, and saved it for me. I laughed, thanked them, and felt that quiet little tingle I always feel when life makes a circle.

That is how July ends for me. With flowers by the road. With a bench beneath the trees. With two dogs who gave me years of joy and still, somehow, keep giving. We may never know what happens to the gifts we leave behind. A flower may brighten someone’s kitchen. A bench may become a place to eat lunch, catch a breath, or take an afternoon nap beneath the redwoods. A story may give someone hope on a hard day. Perhaps joy keeps growing because it was never meant to stop with us. Perhaps it grows every time we leave a little kindness for someone else to find. “All who joy would win must share it.  Happiness was born a twin.”  William Blake