I wrote my last post and titled it, focused on the Fields of Gold. About a week later we decided to take a local hike recommended by our innkeeper. It was to a bald, a spot called Max Patch Mountain. Most importantly, it was close and didn’t require a lot of driving. The hike was easy, the view like something out of some European scene. I have never seen a view quite like this in the Smokies. I unconsciously started singing, “so she took her love, for to gaze awhile, upon the fields of barley” as I was standing in just such fields. Suddenly remembering the prophetic post I’d left behind, I was stunned. Then, I cried tears. The happy kind.
A little bit of pretty.
Quote I’m Thinking About Right Now:"Be kind. Everyone is fighting a great battle." -St. Athanasious
…from one of my many clippings:"One adventure is over; it is time for another. I have a different kind of work to do now. I am growing into a new season. At the water's edge, watching the tiny, teeming life of that mysterious place between high and low tides, the intertidal zone, I begin to accept the relentless flux that is the condition of these days. I am not old and not young; not betrothed and not alone; not broken and yet not quite whole; thinking back, looking forward. But present. These are my intertidal years. " -I wish I remember who wrote it. It came from the NYT Magazine or Oprah's Mag.