Far and away
What is it about a campfire that brings people together?
Is it the warmth? The cheerful spark and quiet popping sound? Is it the cozy glow?
The sense of purpose and home in the midst of great black nothingness?
What is it about the woods that prompts silent reverie?
Time slows … patience grows … we notice the little things, the seemingly insignificant things.
We ponder as we wander in wild wonder.
What is it about the color red that captures our attention?
Vibrant heat … living color … burst of passionate intrigue.
I love red.
What is it about ducks on a rock that makes me pause?
They flap and dive and swim and hop up … all the while quacking and chatting with each other.
And we stood on the banks of the river and watched and giggled.
Time stopped … and there was nothing more important during those few moments.
Why are boys drawn to water and splashes and great outbursts of joy?
And why aren’t they patient enough to stop, first, and put on swim trunks?
And why do they throw rocks … not just in the river, but at siblings?
(More on that last statement, soon. It involved stitches.)
Why do fallen logs attract children … and adults?
We feel an overwhelming compulsion to walk the walk and trek across streams on the back of a fallen log. No matter if it’s slippery or rotten or wide or narrow. It’s a plain that must be conquered.
Preferably in sneakers and not flip-flops.
What is it about baseball?
Anytime … anywhere … anyone.
Gloves and balls and bats and kids and adults.
As American as … apple pie? Camping trips? Tubin’ down the river?
What is it … ?
Home away from home.
Sanctuary in the wilderness.
Oasis in the midst of a beautiful, crazy life.
Hope you find all of these … or at least most of these … this weekend.