The weathered hues of an old farm house..and a cool crisp September morning.
Startlingly blue eyes.
A penny for your thoughts?
I asked.
I was met with nothing but her calm cool gaze….and sweet endearing silence.
Penny for Your Thoughts
Meow Meow
He squealed in delight: ‘meow…meow’.
Clearly - he’d discovered something that I hadn’t.
I looked up. I looked around. I looked everywhere except for down.
But then…and there - at his 2 year old eye level - I found.
This ‘meow…meow’ and that little boy were looking one another right in the eye…
And they were talking.
Home
And then - there’s the returning.
Home.
Where winter is so slow to let go….
Where spring is choosing to take her sweet time…
Where the ground is sweet…
Where the air is clear…
Where new life awaits…
Home.
There’s no place like it.