Picnic by the lake

A few days ago I dug my toes in some sand. It has been far too long. There is something so therapeutic about it's gritty cold self against my skin. I was at a small lake a few blocks from my house enjoying an absolutely perfect afternoon. There was sunshine, turkey sandwiches (with cheese!), and my two boy's laughter. Heaven I tell ya. While Brad and I watched Brynner run down grassy slopes in a fit of giggles I couldn't help but notice two brothers down on the beach. They were building a sand castle. All was well until the older brother threw their bucket in the water and demanded his brother to get it. I watched them argue about who would retrieve it as it slowly drifted away. Silence washed over them as they caught sight of the bucket bobbing up and down out of their grasp. I assumed they thought it was a lost cause and were each saying a silent good-bye. Three children playing near by, asked if they needed help. Ideas were exchanged and suddenly the busy bunch ran down the dock. They were going to catch the bucket as the wind persuaded it North. They barely missed it on dock number one, the second dock they missed it again, but by the third dock it was found. You've never seen five children more proud about finding a bucket. It got me thinking. We've all got something in our lives. At least I do from time to time. As I contemplated the something in my life, I decided to be proud of the bucket I've found. Excited even! And speaking of excited, check out Brynner running down those grassy slopes. I wish you could of heard his shrills and squeals. Precious.