It is 62 degrees. The birds are chirping and the sun is streaming through the leaves on the bushes that block our front patio. This is about as fallish as it will feel in Arizona.
I am home and content. Thankful for the rest I find here and the peace that surrounds it. Simplicity follows you like a critter in the woods. Rustling in the leaves from time to time, letting you know it’s still there.
There are certain moments, smells, foods that leave an imprint on your brain and memory. When you revisit them they flood your heart and soul with a moment of home, nostalgia, and wonder.
It’s the crazy cat lady and patio morning with the slider wide open from our first apartment. The chili (yes, we actually had chili) night spent with friends around the rickety fire pit in our second home. It’s the chocolate chip pancake breakfasts with my sister and her husband every Saturday morning in our next door apartments. It’s the feeling of wool socks sliding over 100 year old wood floors in both our apartments we had in New Hampshire.
And right now, it’s the feeling of coming home from a trip to a clean home, sweet husband, and one more weekend day to stay home and treasure it. Nay, soak it up. It’s the slow morning, windows open, cool air fall delight that takes me to a place of home. There’s no where else I’d rather be.
And for that I’m so thankful.