There are so many things I am grateful for: being surrounded by family and friends; having finally settled into a job that I love; a yoga practice that enriches and strengthens me; books that let me slip away; and little things like coffee and chocolate… But when I started thinking about what I would photograph to show gratitude this week, what I realized is that right now, I am most grateful for being home again.
This is the early morning sunrise through my back window.
This summer we came home.
After a year in Ontario, a move we made to be closer to “opportunities” for ourselves and our children, we have returned to the Maritimes once and for all.
As it turns out, the opportunities we sought were neither abundant nor worthwhile. Instead, we have chosen to come back to the small town we came from. Family, friends, the quiet life, and the beautiful beaches drew us home.
And so, I am back to sitting in the sand, listening to the waves, and searching for sea glass.
This is my happy place.
A mirror broke today.
It was a large, heavy mirror. One that I had painted and thought looked perfect on the table in my dining room. Even though I had secured it to the wall, it came crashing down.
It scratched my good table, chipped my new floor, and sent shards of glass flying across two rooms. I was disappointed and discouraged.
But no one was hurt.
Mostly, I feel a tremendous sense of gratitude for the empty chair.
I thought I had killed it.
This beautiful flower I had bought to brighten my garden. I thought I had killed it with neglect.
I forgot to water it, deadhead it, give it sunlight. I bought the pot, set it out, and forgot about it. I was beginning to think I truly had a black thumb.
Last week, I transferred it to a new pot and gave it water. I did not have any hope or illusion that it would bloom again.
But it did. There is only one flower, but there is one.
A respite from the bugs, a room for conversation, a place for an after-supper cup of tea.
This is my screen house.
We have enjoyed many moments in it. But a spontaneous cuddle with our children at sundown tops them.
The evening breeze, the stars above, and the people I love the most in all the world.
This is happiness.
In between the rain and the thunder, I was able to do a little gardening.
There were plants that needed saving. I bought them with good intentions, but it was either too hot, too wet, or there were too many bugs to plant them.
Now, they are safely inside a pot on my front porch.
With a little luck, they might even grow.