It's all in the noticing

Gratitude. A deep-down sense that God is good and that life is a gift. It's there for the taking. Sometimes, though it's all in the noticing. I can't notice when life is whizzing by. I can't notice when I'm so tired my eyes don't focus. Noticing happens best in the slow time.

I have to stop. Be still. And notice. 

It helps to wake up in my own room in the "kids' wing," the one with the beautiful blue walls and the ceiling fan. In the house where I'm not the most grown up grown-up of all.

There is a winding country drive, early Sunday morning, to monastery quiet nestled in the hills.

The sky is so blue and the hills so green.

The church bells ring out when Mass begins and again when Our Lord is present. Bells ring, echoing off the hills, filling an early Sunday morning with the sound of pure joy.

I am sitting outside this church with a squirmy Sarah Annie. We notice a bird with a hollyberry in his beak, a butterfly flitting from flower to flower, weeds in the garden (she wants to pull - "to help the sisters). We are stilled, heads bowed at the sound of the bells.
 

Breakfast after church. The Mudhouse Cafe. Fair trade, local, organic, friendly, cozy, small town perfect.

A soy mocha latte that tastes more like coffee than chocolate--mocha perfection.

 

Art for breakfast.

And then on to the orchard.

Yep. She'll ask Grandpa for peach ice cream at 10 in the morning. And yep, she'll get it.

 

It's a beautiful day. She's styling her shades. Let's get out and pick.

Precious cargo.

{Dear, sweet man.}

Nothing says Virginia morning like the smell of fresh peaches and the sight of crepe myrtles in the sun.

To Mint Springs Lake, where there little girls can lie on their bellies in the sun and run their fingers through the sand.

Just sit on the shore, toes in the water, and inhale. 

This friendly competition did NOT end in screaming and shouting the revisiting of game rules. Mountain miracle, no doubt.

Just a day. One day. Not a fancy vacation in a far-off land. Not a two week reservation and a ticket to ride. Just a day. Surrounded by people I love and people who love me.

In a place that never fails to remind me how loved we are by the Master Artist who created it.

Joining Ann to count blessings, except I've again lost count..