Fall in Texas

It’s strange to be unsettled and scattered.  I like things to be orderly and peaceful and lovely.  (And this isn’t a bad thing unless I start demanding life deliver it.  As I had in some ways.)

Having our belongings scattered among storage units, cleaning and restoration plants, an apartment, and the mission house is more than a little discombobulating.  Being excitedly told that something ‘made it’ only to find it blackened with ash and wavy with water damage is really discouraging.  I can’t wait for a fresh start and a new place to call home.  I know it’ll come in due season.

In the meantime, I am having chances to find beauty in places I would have never been had life not been turned upside down.  When I take Barnes for his walk, we wind through the sidewalk in a neighborhood near our apartments.  Lately, the oak trees—pin oaks I think they’re called—have been dropping their leaves so that the new ones can grow.  It is the closest thing to fall that we get in Texas.  At Oliver Circle, this time of year was a nuisance as leaves fell like rain, covering the deck, falling into crevices of outdoor cushions, and filling the pool.  But this year, I don’t have to worry about any of that.  I can simply walk and enjoy them swirling in the wind along the side of the street.  I can watch them catch the light at sunset and become living gold.  And it is magical.  It feels like I’ve stumbled into a fairy tale every time.

And I smile knowing God is smiling with me.

Disclaimer: Found this pic on the interweb...this is NOT my neighborhood. But isn't it magical looking?

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