I’m waiting anxiously for winter’s bite to give up its grip. No, it’s not only the thought of spring flowers that lures me out into the chill so early every Saturday morning. It’s the excitement I can’t resist that pulls me out the door not long after dawn’s first light filled with anticipation. I’m on a quest nothing much can slow me down from looking for treasures. I’m seeking out unknown destinations as I eagerly start my journey. The car is filled with gas; I have my coffee and I’m ready to travel. I’m equipped with my newspaper ads, a pocket full of change and crisp dollar bills in search of that first yard sale. As sure as if I’m on an ocean of blue I can’t wait to go lawn saleing through our beautiful Virginia countryside.
 

      “Junk” some say, “nothing, but junk.” Others tell me I found yet another great buy. No matter where my search leads me I love the excitement of the hunt. That unbelievable find could be waiting for me to discover among yesterdays cast offs. Never knowing just what I’m looking for, but knowing it when I see it. Some silently whisper to take it home, while others seem to scream you can’t leave me here. Once again a worn doll wraps itself around my old heart as sure as a child loved her long ago so will I. Once more an irresistible dusty cobalt blue milk of magnesia bottle catches my eye and must be added to my already over flowing collection. Then there’s that new something still in the box no one found a use for. I love to uncover that something so cute with the tags still on it. Oh, how it tempts me not to put it down.
 

      I find stories under the dust of treasured dreams from those who are moving on to a new life. Some sell to buy new dreams or just are cleaning out the attic. Others are at the end of their dreams facing a retirement home alone. Slow down, listen and ask questions, older folks are eager to share their past. Junk you say? I don’t think so! When I see an old picture frame holding a faded smile, I feel love knowing someone cared enough to frame this face. Worn baby shoes that took their first steps into life were a mother’s sweet memories. Tools covered in the rust of time; what dream did they make come true? Someone’s life lying out on tables in their yard for all to see. Take time to look with your heart. Be kind and remember one day it could be your turn watching strangers rustle through your dusty dreams that was once was your life.

© 2006 Kitty Moore All Rights Reserved.