Distracted is what I feel. There are plans to be made. People to contact, appointments to be arranged. Things to be done but not yet, it's too soon. But perhaps I will start anyway...I pack bags in my mind and watch as our home is wrapped up and placed in boxes. We've done it before. How many times again? But this time seems different. A home is waiting for us on the other end of this migration. Our home. Not a house, not a place to stay. Our home. A home with imperfections and lots of heart. My heart too. The simple thought and vision of it sends me off to sleep at night. To dream of it a bit more. Will it remember us? I imagine my children squealing and smiling as we swing open the door, or maybe it's me. Yes, me too. I see leaves turning colors of gold and red the air becoming cold a fire roaring and cracking in the hearth. Things perhaps I enjoy more than I realized before? My feet will be much father from the sand. I won't smell the sea salt in the evening air. These things I adore. We came by choice and circumstance to this lovely place. Its windy and warm beaches kissed our cheeks and noses. For the same reasons we arrived, we are leaving it now. But there is love and family and full houses where we are going. Generous hearts and arms outstretched. And hands to help without asking or owing. Distracted my what is coming but present for the beauty that is around me know. The sand between my toes and cold salty water. The endless amount of sunshine warming my shoulders. I breathe deeply the ocean air and will remember what it is like to be here..
Joining Just Write
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