Kentucky lake is brown and beautiful, surrounded by the white pure snow. We slip down the hills on wobbly wooden sleds, moving toward the sparkling lake.
These moments are sweet and we know it. We know this year hinges on the time we spend in each other’s company, laughing and rising.
Our faces are numb and our fingers are frozen, but our hearts are warm as we slip down the hill, altogether on a homemade sled.
When we reach the bottom there is always a pause. We lay in the snow and look up at the sky through the barren trees. In the pause, that is when we know: this life is meant to be enjoyed. We go on grand adventures together, we sit around tables filled with breakfast food, and we rejoice together in those moments when a little bit of heaven comes down on earth.
Paths of dirts and budding trees line the way to restoration. Stop and smell the roses, see the snails on the ground and know that as the day goes by it is being crafted by hands, homemade and heal…
Smiles and giggles all around as we walk from booth to booth in the streets of a small town with pork and paintings.
The sun is peaking through the clouds shining down on us as we stand in awe of the craftsmanship. The wooden masterpieces are made by hand and the cloud canvas is made by hand.
We topple up a precarious wooden ladder, that wobbles and creaks. The kind old man holds onto the legs as we scootch onto a giant wooden rocking chair. We pose with pleasure as he snaps pictures of us two on top. One with legs dangling, one with legs crossed.