Yesterday, for the first time this summer I believe, Bella and I forsook civilization, chores and everything mundane, and headed to the wilderness. Thither we go to cast off our cares, live for the moment, and fill our souls with God's magic.
The way is not easy, but we persevere:
When Bella and I go to the wild, we are enchanted by:
who we meet;
the signs of those who wish to not be seen;
and the artistic skills of those blessed to hang around in the woods all day.
The way down the hill is quite steep and weedy, but we find fascinating sylvan scenes that conjure up the dryads of C.S. Lewis. Surely they must be around somewhere; peeking between the roots or from under mossy logs.
Bella herself looks,
and looks and looks,
But the wild ones are elusive.
So we content ourselves with scenes from the woods, flecked with early yellow signs of impending fall, and they are peace to us, filling us with unspeakable joy; God's magic.
(Thankful: flowers in late fall, the big sycamore, peace in the woods)