This past weekend, I once again drove roads as familiar and comfortable as my favorite jeans, roads that take me to my family's cabin. The cabin is a special place in my life, a forever place in my life. Just entering its doors makes my memories there alive again. I can feel the heat and the cold of past seasons there, I can smell the aroma of past meals shared there, I can hear the music of songs sung there. People are the most part of the memories there, people living within my thoughts and heart like the wind I can feel but cannot see. The cabin keeps yesterday in the past while making the most of today, of the present. The foundation of the house was built in yesterday but the house itself stands in today and being there, spending time there, reminds me of life's wonderful order.
Some pictures from the weekend:
We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. ~ Thornton Wilder
I am alive here.