This is a story about making a visit home.
The barn never seems to change. It was falling down when we moved to the farm, and it still stands - peeling, lopsided, uncertain - more than two decades later.
Tow-headed nephews, however, are never the same - this one is growing up so fast it makes my head spin and my heart ache... mainly because I don't get to see him enough.
This is ground I've walked on hundreds of times before, but I glimpse a new vista each time.
It's that much sweeter to share these places with a soulful, indigo-eyed niece. She's growing up too fast, too.
(Is this what it will feel like for the rest of my life? Always wishing I could grab time by the tail, slow things down, and sink into the moment more deeply?)
It wouldn't be home without produce plucked fresh from the garden, dinner made with ingredients that were connected to the earth only minutes before.
How about we end this story with a hug?
'Cause they feel. So. Good.
Happy Friday, y'all.
