I'm tempted to always say no. I often see the burden of increased work load that a request brings on and I'm the gatekeeper for simplicity and managable time demands.
Good intentions...
but there's a time to say "yes."
The younger Blossoms asked for one more "quick overnight to the cabin."
I blocked it out and even though I could think of twenty more things I could and probably should accomplish at home, we packed and journeyed to our "happy place."
Full stop.
Hard reset.
Twenty-four hours of mountain simplicity and connection
to reorient and realign.
Splashing through the creek in rubber boots,
Snapping pictures to watercolor later,
Tramping up and down leaf-strewn banks to see, to explore, to observe,
Waving on a friend's trail cam,
Perching on old stumps, giggling and making faces,
Standing on the creek bed and listening,
really listening,
Admiring the last vestiges of splendor in the underbrush of this beloved eastern wild area,
Snuggling down in favorite chairs with books and tea and snacks on a porch that is a porch,
Painting pumpkins and laughing at a mustard yellow table
that holds as many wholesome memories as our own home kitchen table,
Crafting home-cooked breakfast together,
Savoring October rain,
pitter-patters,
heavy droves,
in-between smatterings,
repetitious sounds on a mismatched shingled roof
that lulls better than any sound machine.
We climb back in the van, mentally checking off the packing up clean up list,
and without hesitation, they say, "Thanks for bringing us, Mom."
