All of a sudden, it decided to be spring. And on day one, I went out to commune with God in nature in one of my favorite places in the whole world.
I came here as a teenager with a youth group. I came here with my husband when we were first dating, and I swam in the creek. I came here and napped with nursing babies on a blanket in the shade. I have come here with a cousin and with children and with friends and most especially, again and again, by myself.
It’s not as quiet here as it was when I was a kid. Not since they built the four-lane. Then again, maybe my memories are skewed. I never realized, until I left the farm for college, how noisy the world beyond my haven is. But I know the spots where I can put the rocks between me and the highway and hear only running water.
The topography of this area is wild and unruly. It will never settle into the kind of organized beauty we usually prefer in our nature scapes. I love organized beauty, but something in this rambling, cluttered, ever-changing landscape speaks to me, reaches through the cluttered mess of my crazy life and strokes a heart-string deep inside, setting it to humming.
And so, in the middle of yet another crazier-than-it-should-be week, I pause to share it with you.