Thankful

After our feast of Thanksgiving we went on a hike in the Superstition wilderness.
The air was mild, the sunlight, golden.  And it sure felt good to get up and move after such a busy morning cooking and a full-belly feast.

While we walked in the desert splendor, and as I watched those sunlit heads bobbing ahead of me I was momentarily choked with gratitude to my Heavenly Father for my life.  For those boys, and their strong, handsome dad leading us.  For the sun, the air, the path under my feet, and my healthy body.  For everything.

And then Brandt wanted his picture taken, I swallowed the lump in my throat, and life continued.  

But I cherish moments of communion like that like little gems.

One thing my boys like to do is throw rocks, and at home I have to say, "Put that rock down.  No throwing rocks!"  I love going hiking with the boys because they can throw rocks to their heart's content.  And play with sticks.  And climb.

And climb some more.  

And just 

be boys.

They need that.  

On the way back home Brandt fell asleep in the warmth of his car seat and had to be awakened for pie.  Boy, were we all ready for that pie.  And though I was worried because I baked my mom's Apple Slices Pie for the first time, there was no need to be.  Mmmm.

It was a beautiful day.  And I hope your's was too.