It's a simply soulful afternoon here in Jackson. Atticus is sleeping under a shade tree. I'm reading and listening to music. Will is spending time in his garden. Life is grand.
|"Welcome to my little patch of garden."|
|For one mostly blind old dog, bliss is found somewhere |
between the wildflowers and the pumpkin patch.
|Will watching over the pumpkins.|
|His squinty-tough guy pose. (The sun was bright and in his eyes.)|
|Cosmos and other wildflowers.|
|Where we do our best thinking, reading, writing...or nothing at all.|
“A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people to whom it is easy to do good, and who are not accustomed to have it done to them; then work which one hopes may be of some use; then rest, nature, books, music, love for one's neighbor — such is my idea of happiness.” ~ Leo Tolstoy
|Chaos & order.|