In Which I Say Random Things

There is going to be a stream on conscience, so I cannot guarantee that I have much of worth to say at all but I will probably just ramble.

The weather has been so nice lately that it has resulted in lots of walks and bike rides. Both of which I enjoy. Oh, and reading outside. I like books. A lot. There has also been lots of picture taking because things are coming alive once again. But, that also means there have been tons of rabbits on the trail. I guess they come alive in spring too... and procreate... and run all over the trails like I am about to maul them over with my bike. Which I don't do. In fact the other morning we went on a sunrise ride. I am still not sure what I was thinking when I willingly volunteered to get up at 5:50 and ride a bike for a few hours. I must have been on something. It was worth it though.

Tonight I sat on a cliff at a park I had never been too and talked about how simple life seemed there. There weren't people around but there was music. Well nature's music. There was the sound of leaves being slightly rustled by the wind, water swiftly flowing over the rocks far below us, and the occasional call of a wayward bird. It was beautiful music without the distractions of ringing phones and speeding cars. There, on that cliffside, life seemed so idealistic and simple. If we had stayed there for hours, I would have been content; watching the day turn to night, taking photographs to freeze moments in time, and simply being. Life is very rarely as simple and filled with contentment as those moments were. Sadly though, reality can only be put on hold for so long.

Last night I found a blog post the kid wrote while visiting me last month. I had forgotten all about it until I had the desire to get inside her head. (She is far too wise for her own good sometimes). Unfortunately, I had recently cleared the history on my computer so I had to trace it through Tennessee. It was well worth it. Though long, it talked about beauty and the way she explained it is astonishing. She traced it back to the garden and how God spoke everything into being yet he formed us with his own two hands... definitely a difference in the two things. Later, sitting around our kitchen table, which we rarely use, I read it to my roommate and it sparked a great conversation. The kid may not like me for this, but here it the link to the original post. It is beautiful.

Okay, I think I am done rambling about nothing important at all. Off to shower or work on school or put away clothes or just exist.

Peace.