Today I saw something that touched my heart.
Out here, in the back o’ beyond, our shiny new (and utterly devoid of personality) houses share the air and mountains with homes that have been here for many, many years.
Some of them are down dirt roads.
Some are still working farms and ranches.
And some are “just” where people live.
As I turned in to the BOB this evening, I saw a man walking toward to his fence with his ancient and patient dog by his side. He was carefully carrying one string of lights that he always puts on the fence.
Just one string of merry colored lights that greet us as we turn in to the BOB.
No reindeer that bob their wire heads….no Santas that tower over the house.
Just one string of lights that he hangs with care as his dog watches the annual ritual.
And every night, right about this time, he and his dog will plug in the extension cord that stretches to their front porch.
And that one string of lights will make his fence glow and all of us will smile.
It must be Christmas.
