Pictures like the below from Everyday Musings cause me to be nostalgic for the South and sweet tea. I remember how our house had just reached perfection, before we left Arkansas for Seattle. My time to enjoy the new library with it's wonderful french doors, that led out onto the incredible porch which my German grandfather had built, was far too short.
The library and the porch were just the beginning of a home that was crafted with love, excellence (no short cuts) and an eye for every detail... I remember the ivy which covered our hill masking the rusty Arkansas clay-like dirt beneath, the rock walls my parents built by hand, and the moss... Oh the moss... I can't tell you how many countless times we heard "David, stop. Did you see that? That magnificent moss! Reverse. I have to get some." Yes, my mom lovingly uprooted that moss from the side of countless country roads and hills. At the time this drove me crazy! Just another detour keeping us from whatever special destination we were headed to. Even though many times I had no clue where we were going, my parents liked to keep it a secret, I was still in a rush to get there.
As a child in the South is where the seed of appreciation was first sown into me. When you don't have so much, you see creative potential in everything from luscious green moss to rusty red clay-like dirt. That clay became a vitally important ingredient to a history project where we made an entire pueblo indian village out of milk cartons, hand mixed clay, and incense cones. My parents knew how to extract potential and transform it into something tangible. They had a crazy ability to magnify the little things so we could see how truly extraordinarily blessed we were.
So, while at times I long for the South... I remember that there is so much around me where I am now, if I will just open my eyes... See the potential..Extract beauty from the details...
To live and work attentively in a diverse landscape such as this one—made up of native woodlands, pastures, croplands, ponds, and streams—is to live from one revelation to another, things unexpected, always of interest, often wonderful. After a while, you understand that there can be no end to this. The place is essentially interesting, inexhaustibly beautiful and wonderful. To know this is a defense against the incessant salestalk that is always telling you that what you have is not good enough; your life is not good enough. There aren’t many right answers to that. One of them, one of the best, comes from living watchfully and carefully the life uniquely granted to you by your place: My life, thank you very much, is just fine. - Wendell Berry
image source: olivia rae