I know this place. I lived on a small farm in the Willamette Valley for ten years. Most nights, I'd bundle up and walk the fence line of the back 15 acres. At the back fence, I stopped and gazed at my house, lit up in the dark, glowing like a music box. Most nights, I realized Being Present there. Beautiful.
I know this place. I lived on a small farm in the Willamette Valley for ten years. Most nights, I'd bundle up and walk the fence line of the back 15 acres. At the back fence, I stopped and gazed at my house, lit up in the dark, glowing like a music box. Most nights, I realized Being Present there. Beautiful.
How lovely, Robert. This memory sounds like a poem of its own! :)
"to look back and see,
on the hilltop, our life,
lit from inside"