(Yes. That would be Lupine in the lupines.)

Goodness. That was a week of the nicest sort.

No internet, no clock, no agenda.

Only this old cabin (built by my grandpa and my great grandpa) alongside the river I've know since I was small.

A river that my mom knew when she was small and my grandma before her.

The river where I played as a child, floating bark boats where my kids do today. The river where I said "yes" to Pete's proposal and later married him along her banks. The river where I grieved my grandparents and later spread my grandmother's ashes, watching them swirl through the water where my children now wade.

Circling back. Family. Home. Roots.

This river is familiar in the deepest sort of way.

The river itself is family. Wolf. We even took her name.

 

Our week at the cabin was three holidays in one.

There was a one-day visit with my sister, five days for just the four of us to relax and play, and finally two days with my mom and dad – foraging, eating freshly caught fish and wild mushrooms, and talking until late in the night.

And then suddenly it was time to go.

Back to the farm, the animals, the garden, and our business.

Back home.

We arrived last night to find our garden brimming with ripe strawberries. The first of the year!

And even sweeter were the two newborn goat kids frolicking in the pasture. Also a first for our family and our farm.

Oh! Such a homecoming.

And now we're getting settled back in. Checking e-mail, milking the cow, pulling weeds, and planting the rhubarb, balsam trees, and blackberries we brought home from the cabin. We are finding our farm groove once more.

And yes, snuggling goat kids every thirty seconds or so. (Of course!)

Today I'm feeling relaxed, patient, grateful, and slow.

I'm aware of the depth of my roots in so many ways.

I'm present.

I'm right here. Right now. And nowhere else.

 

And for that I am thankful.

Oh, yes. It's so good to be home.