This morning was glorious. A morning to be praised, to be worshiped, to be revered. Big B asked if we could take a nature walk, and we headed out the door before Papa was even out of bed. We talked about how paying attention to the little bits of beauty we whiz past on most days is sort of like going to church, in a way. We are mindfully giving thanks for the beauty of our existence, and internally vowing to be good shepherds of that beauty. My kind of church.
We started our nature walk by looking for patterns:
And discovered many little treasures, shining in the morning sun:
We found new beauty in things we pass every single day,
and reminders of the spirit of the village in which we live.