Goldenrod, Queen Anne's Lace and Black-eyed Susans have taken their place of honor in the meadow. Thunder rolls up and down the valley. Rain comes down in sheets sometimes, or in a gentle patter at other times. Coyotes howl at night, sending Wilma and Cora to the dark windowsills to look for them. The garlic needs to be pulled, we had broccoli (from the hoop house) soup the other night and the indigo flourishes. We are at the eve of August and the days are hot and humid.
Many things take us away from the hill these days. Life is not simple. But the sanctuary we find here when we return cannot be beat. The view is filled with sanctuary and respite. We pause and we give ourselves permission to turn away from the world for just a bit.
May you find your own sanctuary friends, and do not be shy about spending time there.
Sending love and comfort and hope across the miles.