somewhere else

I’m a million miles from home today.

Homesteading.  With dirt under my fingernails and on my kitchen floor.  Where we live close to the land and close to our God.  Where grass and flowers blow in the breeze and worries get lost on the enormous bigness of the prairie.

Morning.  Where soft dawning light is greeted with more than a sleepy scowl.  When quiet stillness is welcomed, relished, absorbed.  Where time is slow; not hurried.

Wandering.  Discovering new streets and corners and views and smells and sounds.  Taking it all in.

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