Spring has sprung in my part of the world. Forsythia bushes are bursting with yellow flowers. White dogwoods are everywhere with a few pink ones as well. Daffodils and budding trees cover the land. What I have not seen are red bud trees. Where are they hiding?
I went to the monastery yesterday. As always it was a pleasant drive through the countryside. I am happy I have commited myself to go there twice a month. It may only be for the day but it is good for me to reconnect with the place and the people I encounter there whether they be monks or just regular folks like me. I managed to see my old friend, Father Damien, who has recently returned from an extended stay in Indonesia. The only bad thing about these monthly visits to the monastery is that they are usually rushed and full of activity. What I need is a day or a weekend where I am basically alone and I can be quiet and solitary.
When I returned home I took a short nap in preparation for Hurricane Chloe hitting land at my house. She's always very good and I truly look forward to her visits but she keeps me on my toes. She is just a few months from being five years old. She speaks very well and is quite intelligent. We have wonderful conversations, especially at night when we are lying in bed. Last night we played a game where we picked a letter of the alphabet and then tried to name as many things as we could that began with that letter. The game totally degenerated when we picked the letter "B" and I said that "Butt begins with B". It was downhill from there.
It has been a beautiful Sunday and it can only get better. In two weeks I will be in the mountains. I can't wait for the time off and the distance I will put between my normal life and the experience of being surrounded by the Great Smoky Mountains.
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