Watt's Well

Room to Be, Space to Create

Tag: associations

Day 26-27:: Fiery boots

Summer seems to be in a war with fall to gain a few more minutes of glory here in the South.  Being a warm sun loving babe, I do not mind one bit.

Well, except for the fact that I am ready for bonfires and boots.

Bonfires means an excuse to get together with others. For some reason, fire makes conversation easier.  There is not so much focus on what to discuss, but rather all those gathered can focus on being in the moment around the warmth.  Wine. Fire. S’mores. Its common place where we can be at ease.

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And well as for boots, they just make you feel powerful.  Well at least for me.  I feel like I stand taller and more confident.  I am ready to conquer whatever the day may bring.  I have something to offer, and here I go putting it out there for the world to see.

To be more open.  To be more sure.  A fire.  Some boots.

Its funny how we associate things with some of our inner desires.

As you begin this week, may you find the time to be self-aware of what it is you are desiring.  Then with confidence and openness may you pull on your boots to take up the challenge to go after those things you desire, want, or need.

Maybe the first step is simply acknowledging your need or your desire.

May we all find the courage this week to partner with a Good Father who desires to give us good gifts and provide for those things we need.

 

 

Day 17-18:: Lowcountry Lights

The time of year where the sun shines different and the moon makes an early appearance.

Mountains with their orange, yellows, and ambers whisper a subtle invite of get-a-way adventure.

Tea time comes earlier in the evenin’ under orange sky and brisk air.

Kitchens smell of cinnamon and spice as the oven toasts the baker’s cheeks.5FF40FEC-DF68-45B2-A051-B4230D397017.JPG

Mornings clothe the jogger in a jacket, yet noon day reminds him of summer’s end.

Rows of pumpkins strewn out for the picking, artists awaiting their canvas.

Sea breeze feels crisp as the shoreline runs with a promising break.

Farmers take their last pick and make their beds for another prize.

Leaves crunch under stout young men’s feet as they wrestle to the ground.

Rains pause for a brief moment, suspended in clouds until looming frigid months.

Chocolate covered sticky hands are wiped on levi’s before mom can wipe up the mess.

IMG_0539.JPGTired eyes fall asleep as embers fade, smokey perfume lingering ’til mornin’

Neighbors huddled around picnic tables shuckin’ and sharing a beer.

Pecans fought for as squirrels scamper and grandmas whisk.

Porches fill with friendly faces, hammocks hang from palms with bundled beans swinging.

Poured over with gravy shrimp lay on fluff, served morning and night.

‘Tis the time of year the light hits the Lowcountry on her softer side.

 

 

 

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