©2016 by Janet Crouch Photography
Today it’s just this striped chair facing a wall of windows looking out on a green space where pines and cedars are blowing a wind that might bring rain. It’s this room of books and undertones and people thinking, and I’m thinking of the low hum in Uncle Andrew’s study — the hum of the rings that could take you to and from the Wood Between the Worlds, and after all, aren’t libraries rather like that Wood, with each book I touch allowing me to dip my toes, so to speak, into another world?
In this world, on the pond beyond the trees, a pair of Canada geese are taking their five children for an outing.
I cocoon myself in quiet, here and at home — seeking wide spaces for thought, where I can notice the tumbling of a singular leaf on the grass outside, the kicks of a singular life inside me.
But I also like to make my home a haven for others — a place of palpable peace, for thinking or for talking, a place for feeding souls and bodies.
Last night, coming home from a church ladies’ night, I found myself an observer of the tail end of a guys’ night my husband hosted: warm lamplight and people talking and eat, at ease, glad to be there, slow to leave.
Usually, when we’re hosting things, I’m in the thick of it, too much so to notice the peace, but last night I got to glimpse it, and I was grateful.
Linking up for Kate Motaung’s Five Minute Friday today.
©2016 by Stacy Crouch