Long days ago I wrote about beauty. Fainting, wisping, fleeting. I long to touch it, experience it and be enveloped in it....
And as I go meticulously through the blueberries, seeking the deep sweet blue, I am struck with a thought. In the midst of the wild choking and creeping morning glory entangling my blue beauties, the thought slowly enters my mind. Beauty is not tidy. Beauty is not necessarily clean. Beauty is not found only in clean rows, bountiful harvests and sweet honey. Beauty is not skin deep. Beauty is a reflection of joy. Beauty is found in peace, contentment, and love. The pure white blooms of my dreaded weed do indeed reflect joy. They rejoice in fulfilling their mission. They are beautiful....
Today's Journey Joy - discovering joy among the weeds
Melancholy
I shouldn't write when I'm feeling like this. Emotionally fragile and oscillating between tears, fears, and frustration. Yet ...
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Steamy, sticky, muggy and hot August is the usual weather here in Western Illinois, but this year it has been dry and moderate, mostly in... -
I shouldn't write when I'm feeling like this. Emotionally fragile and oscillating between tears, fears, and frustration. Yet ... -
The end of June marks the beginning of the annual race between blueberry picking, weeding, and summer planting. The juggle of horticultura...