Childhood Memories

Kristine arrived home from Science Camp to a relieved mother and hungry stomach. I took her home promptly and fed her properly with short orders to take a shower. Her jovial personality was deeply missed and though she has returned with a deeper love of science, her enthusiasm for life remains undiminished!



What joy it is to be a child and what tender memories we collect along the way...



And then we rolled happily into the weekend which began with a reunion: The Whitings. Long lost adopted big sister Allison was upon us first and then we rendezvoused with the rest of the clan to watch Super Star, Bryce kick around a ball... oh wait, I think that's called soccer. And Ramsey thought it was his own personal long distance track meet - his stamina was quite impressive too.




It was lovely to see the Whitings, though quite frankly I did not have enough time with Miss Bunny - who had the ridiculous idea of returning the next day? That was ill planned.


But the weekend was not over and one of our favorite activites is hiking through the Oak Grove at the end of our street. We concluded Sunday afternoon with this event and enjoyed a warm, blissful autumn evening.

And who hasn't laid down on a soft lawn or warm earth to look through the branches of a sun drenched tree? When we are children the tree is a million years old and full of hopeful adventures and undiscovered dreams... and as we mature and take on the burdens of life the tree is a metaphor for growth, survival and hope.

For me, the tree when seen from this humble position is the manifestation of life's complexities and simplicities unfolding in a pattern so easily missed and yet magnificently planned.

There is beauty in its twisted arms and outstretched limbs - reaching toward heaven and soaking in the light. Through storm and wind and summer drought, it continues to grown and progress all the while its intrinsic beauty is evident; it does not have to be perfect nor right it just has to be what it is... And so it is with our lives: the beauty is in who we are - in being ourselves...

And the inner child who imagines the possibilities are within us still - for somehow we see in that tree a life that we hoped for and did not perhaps get, but the undeniable beauty that was created, in spite of unimaginable struggle. And in truth, our lives would not be as rich nor the palette as broad had things gone as planned. Beauty is the miracle.