Want to take a little stroll in the country with me?
We'll move slowly, deliberately, drinking it all in the way we were meant to. I'll point out all the pretty things like a lush pear tree full of fruit, looming, blooming crape myrtle draped against a perfect country garden and whimsical row of rusted shovels.
Friendly goats begging for a petting, spaghetti squash lounging beneath green vines, straw hat and overalls doing the evening picking... just as the day before, the day after.
Happy chickens searching for bugs, antique insulators in shades of aqua blue, baby okra reaching for the sun, a little goat named Grasshopper putting on a show.
The man tending stalks, quietly, intentionally. Sugar sweet corn, perfect even raw straight from the stalk. A crossing marking the spot where trees are milled into lumber and lovingly crafted into beautiful benches, chests, serving boards.
A dirt road where I spent decades of life and hope to spend decades more, buckets of ears, green tomatoes on the vine.
A roadside sea of sunflowers, small harvest to bring home, and a darling girl we'd have to drag away despite being so exhausted from the fullness of perfect summer fun that she'd sleep nearly the next two days.
Most people would glance at these images and see nothing more than a simple country homestead.
I see beauty in every direction I look. Intention, sweat, long hours of dedication and devotion. I see a family built, provided for, fought for. I see faith, in more things than I can count. I see humility and pride waltzing together perfectly, precisely the way they should. I see growth, I see hope, I see love.
I see home.
I marvel to think I was made to live here, grow here, become myself here. It was no accident, not in the least. Rarely a single day passes I'm not grateful. Grateful, for all of it.
Have a lovely day, friends! Drink in every beautiful moment, no matter how small.