Last Saturday my visiting sister and I went in search of serendipitous adventure. The kind that you don’t plan very far ahead, if at all — you simply pick a direction (in this case south) and line up a few criteria (history, tea, theater), and you’re off. (Although adventures of this sort are fairly usual in my universe, I think this might be a rare occurrence for mothers of three.)

The only things we did try to plan for were minimal walking (after 4 days of museums, monuments and metro in DC, my sister’s feet deserved a break) and inclement weather (scattered thunderstorms expected). As per Northeast usual, the weather went entirely the opposite of what we were expecting and wound up sunny and sweltering 90% humidity.

The little town we wound up in was 20% historic buildings and 80% antique stores… I like wandering these shops but rarely find anything that strikes my fancy or fits my budget.

In our last 15 minutes I walked into a store mostly for the air conditioning, and spotted on a table of discounted dusty books, a treasure. It was probably the particular shade of porcelain/ocean/cerulean blue that caught my attention, as it is my favorite of all the blues. But on closer inspection it was even more perfect – hand-tooled gold leaf on the cover, front and back, and most intriguing of all, it opened as an unusual accordian of thick, dark gray pages.

The price penciled on the tag was a mere $7.50… I couldn’t believe my fortune. Nevermind I didn’t know quite what it was or how I would use it. It was only after I got it home and looked at the receipt that I saw “flowerpress journal”. How lovely. But it wouldn’t have mattered. All I know is that it was already perfect for me. The perfect blue treasure.

For now it is empty, gracing a shelf. But someday, just as serendipitously as it came to me, I’ll stumble upon what it should hold.

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so.” – Mary Jean Iron