Our Path

I think the path to our house is an inviting one.  Stones, and timbers and moss, edged with ferns and impatiens and the trickle of a little fountain by the steps guide you in.  Many times I walk that path and find joy in its earthy beauty.  I come home from a long day and I look down at those stones and know I am home.  Some days as I walk those stones they tug at my heart and I don't want to leave.

Those stones have felt the tiny feet of our nieces and nephews, great nieces and nephews and even great great nieces and and nephews.  They have felt the love of our siblings and our parents as they walked to our front door.  Friends have brought joy to our house stepping on those stones.  Those stones have felt the burden of grief that we have carried coming home from the funerals of loved ones.

Through the years we have talked about upgrading our walk, making it look more updated and newer, but now I see that walk as an old friend.  Some day when I no longer walk it, maybe someone else will see it as old and broken and build their own.  For me, I want it to lead to our purple door forever.