This land...

To put words this place is to sell it short.   The way the fog rolls up between the mountains.  Sometimes it creeps up real slow like, not sure how far it wants to reach.  Other times it just climbs right up and envelopes us in its shroud.  

Days when the sun shines you can see it from its very birth.  Up, up, up over the ocean it comes.  Beaming down upon us at noon and waving goodnight with its pinks and purples at night.  In its wake it leaves the pink and red and green reflections on the sides of the surrounding hills.

On rainy days those hills get swallowed up in the clouds that seem to drop from the sky.  These days are meant for restoration.  Sit back and listen to the rain on the roof.  The drumming of nature.

This land, these places had a hold of me as a young child.  I grew up like Heidi, on the side of a mountain in a chalet.  My playground was the forests, creeks, boulders and hills.  My best friends, two big dogs who went everywhere I did.  This place became a part of me.

As a young adult I inherited a piece of this land.  This farm that belonged to my great grandfather.  Where my grandfather grew up.  I know that I am blessed beyond measure to wake up here everyday.  In my heart I knew I wanted to use this land to bless others.  To allow them to experience the adventures and restoration that these rocks and trees can offer.  That is why I built this little tiny house so that I could share all that with you.