A Country Weekend

It was a fantastic fall weekend in the country. Restful, relaxing, and filled with simple, fleeting moments that capture the essence of a grateful life.

I wanted to write about the wonderful coat rack I made from salvaged lumber this weekend. The wood had a terrific patina, weathered gray from years outside. I used nails leftover from the cabin construction for the hooks, and I topped the rack with a shelf made from the same wood. I laid a wildflower bouquet and two long leaf pine cones atop the shelf. A denim shirt and binoculars hung from two of the nails. Country still life. Begging for a snapshot. And I obliged.

And then I thought I might write about the walk my sister and I took Sunday morning. Melvin, my sister’s two dogs, Tucker and Sonny, and my mom’s dog, Josie frolicked all around us as we walked. We hiked over to the far side of the property to checkout the color on the sourwood trees. Sourwoods are known for early, vibrant fall color, and they did not disappoint. The light was just right, and I snapped several pictures.

I even thought I might write about the cozy swivel rocker I bought for $25, bargained down from $40, at the Potter’s House on Saturday. Its old fashioned style hugs you in comfort, and the 360 degree swivel allows you to take in the views from any direction. Draped in a plaid throw, it made a charming country picture.

I considered writing about my stroll with Melvin Saturday afternoon. Melvin sniffed along in front of me, nose to the ground on the grassy drive, his tail up and wagging. Low hanging limbs framed him just right—the perfect picture to speak a thousand words.

Towards the end of the weekend I decided a picture of the cabin would be best for the blog, and so I took several shots of the cabin surrounded by trees just beginning to hint at shades of yellow, orange, and red. Satisfied, I loaded up the truck and headed back to Atlanta. On the drive home I thought about possibly using several pictures from the weekend because I captured so many moments that I wanted to share.

Upon arriving home, I discovered I had left the camera behind. Melancholy swept over me, thinking of the camera with all those heartfelt moments locked inside—waiting in the empty, still cabin for my return. And so today's photo is from some earlier trip, but captures the feeling I get everytime I turn onto this little country path. The cabin sits beyond the horizon, out of sight. The uneven drive forces me to slow down, if I haven't already, and I can feel my cares peel away as I creep along the bumpy lane.