I was at the Gideon Media Arts Festival all last week, had an amazing time. Flying into Charlotte on Monday, I was struck by the trees all bursting with leaves. It was like coming into another world, a world of hope for the future.
The conference was in Asheville, a two hour ride inland from Charlotte. Some trees were green, others still bided their time.
I came home to some green grass but still barren trees. I look at them this morning, expecting life. Still waiting but I know it's coming.
My son's family will be here next Saturday. My grandson and I will throw rocks in the stream and begin the process of moving sticks out of the path in the woods. He'll see it as a game--what little boy doesn't love an invitation to hurl sticks.
My son's family will be here next Saturday. My grandson and I will throw rocks in the stream and begin the process of moving sticks out of the path in the woods. He'll see it as a game--what little boy doesn't love an invitation to hurl sticks.
Sadie will come with us--a young dog, full of joy with no eye to the barren trees. Hope always blooms in kids and dogs, with expectation to what was or what should be. What is is daily bread, and that's all that's needed to jump and play and take joy.
1 comment:
I can't wait until my granddaughter is old enough to throw rocks in a stream and go on nature walks and bake cookies and pick out material for a quilt.
Ah, anticipation ...
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