The New Year crept. Slowly. The quiet morning day dawned with enough brightness to fill a small house. Void of the smell of coffee or air. Slow enough to catch a shadow doddling. The light of the cross so lovingly placed on the shady side of the barn, fading. As the old year faded out....new year dawned.
As the activity of the holiday season caught up with us in full tilt, effort was given to warming our small home, waiting for the coffee to brew and feeding the cattle we call a herd.
Coffee drank. Problems solved (or at least hashed out). Food. We needed food.
sausage, check.
tortilla shells, check.
cheese, check.
salsa, check.
Eggs......yep, that's the break down.
But wait....we virtually have a farm in our barnyard.
Hello....this is the Bishop's. Who may I say is calling?
Eggs.....let me check.
Yep. We're good.
Come on over.
We have a hot treat for you too.
So over to the neighbors I trodded. Always fun to see their smiling faces.
And yes, the treat was homemade, warm and yummy.
Breakfast was good and provided us with enough energy to consider a walk with friends.
The day, incredibly bright, lacking wind and as warm as could be when starting out below freezing.
The view from the top. Amazing.
Don't know what they were talking about but I imagine it had something to do with a memory of a place where tall tales are reality and shadows below the stand of trees where a high mountain meadow meets the boulder pile contain the heartbeat of the much hunted. The stick, meant to extend the reach so the probability of touching the described spot feels possible. Where the intensity of the story can only be felt by those who carry deep love for the pursuit. Where the trees know the stories first hand and never breath a word.
So here's to plans.
Plans to enjoy wide open spaces while taking the narrow gate.
Friends and family.
The daily filling of things pleasing to Him.
Choosing Joy.
Happy New Year!
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