Updated: Jun 18, 2022
"Let's go little one," I called to my 6 year old, as she was sitting atop her pony.
It was a cool, sunny but breezy day. A day where the clouds were fluffy and pillow-like, and would just drift lazy across the sky. It was a perfect spring day, and we were taking the time to enjoy together as it was seldom for it just to be Lindsey and I together alone anymore, especially now that Lucas had been born.
The trail we took today lined with wisteria bushes on either side.
"Look Mommy, the pretty bushes are both in purple and red colors! Aren't they pretty?!?" she says with excitement.
I agreed with her contently, while considering how God takes his paint brush and uses the most brilliant colors of ink when he paints.
I continued to walk down the trail while holding the bridle to Lindsey's pony. We continued to chatter about that many facets of God's beauty, and chase butterflies and dragonflies.
It really was a glorious afternoon.
"What do you say that we head back home and check on the chicken that is in the brine, and your brother Lucas?" I asked lazily.
Lindsey put out her chubby lip, and started to pout. "I don't want to. I'm having too much fun!"
"But, we can make sugar cookies when we get home. And we can paint them the colors of the butterflies, and dragonflies that we saw today." I said.
"Oooh - and the colors of those pretty bushes that we saw too!" she exclaimed.
"You mean the wisteria bushes!" I corrected.
"Yes - the whustearia bushes!" she said with a twinkle in her eye. And with that - she clucked her tongue to have her pony pick up the pace to get home.