It's the height of rainy season. There have been steady rainfalls on most days, interwoven with sunny hours. Everything in the house and outside feels clammy. It is our wettest month of the year.
The last two days the boys (with Alana joining them most of the time) have spent almost all their waking ours digging in a mud hole. They have gone from discovering a long lost Ancient Egyptian grave to making tar to building walls to defending their castle with mud bombs. They jump into puddles, are covered in mud and are discovering the great outdoors. I love to listen in on their conversations while at play, catching a glimpse of the magical world of their imagination. I love how they interweave what we have been studying at school with all that they do in the great outdoors. How it becomes an integral part of who they are right now. I love the growth of their relationships with each other, seeing how they interact and how their personalities shine through.
I often dream of an old farmhouse, lots of space, green hills, changing seasons, living off the land, a closer connection to nature and a more simple and quiet and peaceful life, away from the noise and busyness and smells of the city.
So I am thankful for rainy days and mud holes and the freedom the kids have to be outdoors, to connect with the here and now. It may not be an old farmhouse and my garden so far has not yielded much fruit. But this is the day that the Lord has made and it is a gift to be enjoyed and received and savored. This is the here and now, my present reality. And I am grateful.
Note: This was written about two weeks ago. I wanted to add a picture of muddy faces but you'll just have to imagine those for now. :)
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