Beautiful Things in Humble Places...

The older I get, the more I find myself looking backward, rather than forward.

Remembering...

And, somehow, even harsh memories are softened with the warm glow of time.

While summers growing up found me essentially completely cut-off from everyone but immediate family, the days were full.

Daylight hours (after chores, of course) were most usually spent roaming the fields, pastures and woods of our little 80-acre farm.

Mostly the woods...

The woods I roam these days aren't the familiar woods of my youth but they still hold a measure of magic...and beautiful things.

Look closely...do you see him?

 

My peek-a-boo partner for the day.

A young albino buck....

See the velvet of his newly-sprouted antlers?

We played a good long while but I failed to get great photos...alas, he was much better at the game than I.

Beautiful things in humble places....

Rough Waters

It's been the better part of a year since I've been here to stay.

Much has changed, much never will.

I was apprehensive about what I would find as a tornado had touched down on the other side of the lake about a week and a half prior.

{Boat and lift flipped completely upside down.}

Thankfully, my little island was unscathed.

I have been here a week.

My days have been spent cleaning, making lists, searching for things that are no longer where they were...things that are, simply, no longer anywhere.

More pieces to pick up, more holes to fill.

Inevitably, and sadly, some pieces will never fit back together, some things will never be found, and some holes will never be filled.

The latest (3rd? 4th?) phase of remodeling is relatively complete.

{Yes, I know I promised someone before and after photos...I will do that at some point...}

The next phase(s) won't start until January or later.  I need to catch my breath and see if my heart is still here.

The first few days were difficult.  No television, no phone, no internet.  No overhead fans working, garbage disposal not working, leak in the laundry room, broken front porch light, broken back door, light switches not working, non-functioning clocks, no window screens... Too much activity on the lake, too many fireworks, too much filth, too much to do, too many memories, too many ghosts, too many haunts.

And something of which I cannot yet speak.

But the days were pleasantly warm, and the sun shone.

I caught the swans and their young swimming in the far bay.

That, too, changed, however.  The clouds moved in, the winds quickened and the lake darkened.

There's still rough waters ahead.