the foreground and the background

I walked early today. Sunday mornings are peaceful in the neighborhood. Usually, I notice what stands out - flowers in bloom, the awkward tree stump here or there, what the sun is casting its light upon, a cat chilling under a parked car. But sometimes, I make myself look outside of what first catches my eye. The crepe myrtle with its abundant blooms stands out - I notice that without effort. But then I take care to look a few feet to the left or right or below. I take note of the modest green leaves of some plant unknown to me. There's a crumpled cracking in the sidewalk, but I also look at the plain stretch of short grass in the lawn alongside it. Life's not about the foreground really - the lead actors, the king of the jungle. It's about the background too and how it all melds into the whole. There's the big picture: the dirt, the flowering tree, the calling dove, how long the sun is in the sky this day, the pattern of leaves on the curb. Ants check out the remains of a piece of chicken on a blacktop parking lot, and red birds flit into shrubs as fast as dragonflies.