Yesterday I visited my Grandma’s ranch for the first time in years. Relatives floated in and out all day, and I spent the majority of it in an effort to catch up with each. Although I’m always taken aback at the change of my cousins (they’re all growing up so quickly!), the cabin never changes. As I step out of the car onto the dusty road and hear the rustle of the aspens interspersed with the squeak and slam of the screen door, nostalgia washes over me.
I can count on the same familiar smell as I walk through the door, with that red carpet, velvet painting, and always a bowl of fresh cherries. Screen porch sitting oscillates between reading and naps, entertaining munchkins, and delving into intense discussions—all accompanied by the background noise of horses naying as they wait for the next round of riders or trotting away in the excitement of a new ride.
And although it’s worn thin and probably on its last leg, I can always count on this hammock. I can’t go to the cabin without sitting on it. I have so many fond memories in it—sitting with my grandpa holding hands as we always did, piling in with my cousins when we were young, and taking part enlightening conversations as we grew older. Enjoying such an idyllic day, I couldn’t help but reflect on past memories, my sweet family, and the gorgeous surroundings—and thank God for every moment of it. (Taken with Instagram at The Weber)