Wednesday, September 25, 2013

goodbye summer

Untitled

Untitled

Untitled

Untitled

Untitled

. . . and hello Fall.



Tuesday, September 24, 2013

when nature calls

Untitled

Untitled

Untitled

Untitled

Hello friend.  I've been trying hard to put together a post worth sharing.  Honestly, it's been pretty difficult to do, as you can tell by the long stretches of time between each entry.  It's not that I haven't had anything to bring to you.  It's just that once I sat here attempting to put it together so that it made sense, I simply couldn't do it.  So I'll go ahead and apologize now if this entry seems a little disjointed.  There has been a lot of soul searching going on within myself.  I've been keeping my distance only to allow myself the room I need to be able to breathe . . . deeply.

A few weeks ago, I took my family to Ev-Henwood, a wooded area tucked away about 20 minutes outside of Wilmington.  It was just the kind of wilderness I've been needing.  My daughter, before being mauled by mosquitoes, exclaimed joyfully that it was like being in a magical forest you read about in a storybook.  It was important for me to hear that.  As a parent, especially in the day and age we live in, I worry sometimes that my child doesn't have enough exposure to the natural world.  As I watch her soak in the smells, texture, and sounds of the woods, I'm reminded of how quickly she has grown and of how much I have yet to show her.  I, myself, have felt so far removed from nature that I can feel this thick layer of impenetrable skin slowly forming over my heart like a wall.  Just when I think I'm a lost cause, my daughter gleefully shows me a multi-colored spotted leaf she picked up off the forest floor.  It's so pretty Mama.  I look closely at this leaf, one that looks just like many of the others scattered about in front of me, when I realize that in my hand I hold a letter from God written with veins upon a multi-colored spotted page, delivered to me by a six year old courier.  Nature is another way the Creator speaks with us.  I have truly missed these conversations.