wiseman's view

i drove down our new home-road a few days ago and it was like the colors had turned while i'd been away that morning. bam. fall is in full swing.

oh the glow of autumn. the smell of frost and leaves in the air- a tinge of smoke from someone's fire remnants. mmmm... glorious.

we took an adventure this weekend.



yeah. i was there. i got to take that picture. a serious adventure, friends.





jason's birthday is coming up this friday. and his favorite kind of gift is an excursion to see something lovely. he has a list of things he wants to explore and this past saturday, we knocked one off the list.





this is place in north carolina called "Wiseman's View." breathtaking. overlooking the Lindville Gorge, with views of Table Rock Mountain and Hawk's Bill Mountain.





the colors were perfect. the sun was shining. it was seriously like a fall-filled fairy tale. yes. that beautiful.





we met erica there. (have i mentioned the magic of having a sister 2 1/2 hours away??!?)



and brought a little baby bundle.





i love taking little trips with this bunch. especially with my guy. the road is so good for us. even before we were "we" the two of us each enjoyed hitting the road. and now it is something that always ends up benefitting us. looking out the windshield helps us hear each other, i think. there's less pressure on the road. and ease and space to our conversations. it brings good.







felt very spoiled saturday. what beauty our Father has given us.





all over the place. big and little. saturday focused on something so grand and giant. but the little gifts were there too. as we start this thanks-giving month, i'm hoping to have eyes open to it all.



happy week-start, friends.

october's bright blue weather

i called my lovely grandma recently and spoke with her about how crisp the air feels these days and how the sky seems bluer in autumn. she recalled a poem she memorized in grade school: "October's Bright Blue Weather" by Helen Hunt Jackson.



and i think it's true. october has some seriously bright, blue weather.



we headed up to Carl Sandburg's house this past week. as we keep coming back to this beautiful park, it's starting to feel like a home-extension. full of familiarity and warmth.





the more i get to know our old friend, Carl, the more i really like him. his home is so beautiful-- full of musical instruments and thousands of books. when i wander his property, my heart slows and my eyes open wider. good stuff.



we're slowly getting to know our own property these days. the kids and i took a short walk around the perimeter of our yard today-- saying hello to new and becoming-familiar spots.



a new home. new trees. new corners. i'm sure it will take us a while to get to know one another properly. but we're starting.



and i was reminded today the value of just getting outside. just doing it. even for a walk around the yard. lovely things i didn't even know about were waiting for me. lovely gift-moments.





i can't stand this little foot trying to find its way out of his sleep sack:



hopeful for a few more days of bright blue weather. hope you can find some in your corner as well.

a return.

well hi there.



i was thinking i might be done with this space. as the weeks of quiet turned into these past months of silence. change arrived at my door in waves and there didn't seem to be any room for this little blog of mine.

we have a new house.



a new life.





and you know so much comes with that. so much heart adjusting happens with all that newness flying around. it has been hard to keep up.

somewhere in the past few weeks i realized that i haven't taken very many photos. i miss it. i miss them. the attempts at capturing-- of forcing my eye to see-- the beauty of this life of mine- of ours.

this is a season worth capturing. and this blog, in the past few years, has kept me doing that like nothing else.



these little faces change so quickly.

so.

quickly.







i want to record as much of it as possible.

and then there's the writing. sitting myself down with a cup of coffee and a breeze from the window and writing. chronicling all of this. all of it.

i've been so thankful to be able to pull up this blog, click on the side bar and explore what we were up to a year ago- two years ago- three. to see pictures of the kids, hear thoughts i was thinking and be able to see how God has grown/changed me. it's a gift.



so i've decided to keep writing. come along for the ride if you'd like. i'm no longer going to be posting links to Facebook. no longer going to be tracking site-traffic or promoting. i am going to write here as frequently as i can (my goal is once a week)- writing down whatever is bouncing around this head-space of mine. i'd truly love for you to join me.



(and this is our new little man. our zeke. Ezekiel James Bursch. he's a keeper for sure, folks.)

memorial day

we sat around the table
just the four of us
the boy with his hair freshly cut and the new gap in his front teeth.
(he bites his hot dog with his head cocked- using as many side-teeth as he can)

the girl has yogurt on her upper lip and continues to unknowingly apply dabs of the purple stuff to her hair-
her curls containing every color of a ripe wheat field at sunset.

and i was stunned. my heart stepping away from the table and seeing something bigger.


a son. growing. growing.
a girl who is following.
a dining room where i fed each of them solid food for the first time-
served countless breakfasts, lunches and suppers.
a place we will soon abandon for unknown walls.
and i can't grasp the moment.
can't put my fingers around.
i had hoped that writing would help me find it- find the few lines that would express the beauty-
the immeasurable beauty.
but my pencil was too thin- the reality too mighty.



i saw wrinkles on my neck yesterday- the beginning of the weakening of my flesh.
i know that there is no running from time-
the moon rises and fills-
each week and month passing and changing.
i know my hope lies in something unshakable.
i do.
but today,
i wanted so badly to freeze
pause
stop all this.



may i never forget that boy's smile
or the girl's curls in the sunlight.
may my dear love-mate and i hold hands, as we greet the moons to come, and rejoice-
rejoice in these lunches.
with cantalope and yogurt-
talk of mammals and books.



can the not-forgetting keep it safe?
can i firmly hold on at all to these lovely, mysterious gifts of moments?

probably not.
but i know there will be more
more to remember
and to give hope.

a summary of the quiet months

well hello there. how are things in your corner of april? we're plugging away at all of the regular (and a bit of the irregular, as always). i have enjoyed the months of quiet here on this space. i have. and i'm not sure what i'll do from here. but i thought i'd check in and say a 'hello'- update you on some goings-on over here. much has happened.

spring has come.





some projects have been finished.





there was a beach trip.







it was my beautiful mother's birthday. and we seriously celebrated.

oh and we're having a baby!

coming into the world sometime in the middle of august. we're very excited. 

and life just plugs away. with lots of good stuff. good gifts. good things & moments.

we've also been getting ready to possibly move. there is a 'for sale' sign in our yard as of today. i may be back to discuss that whole notion with this white screen of mine. these life changes are sneaky and can catch me off guard. i thought i was doing okay with all of this change. and now there is a sign in my yard. i have had a few freak-out moments today about that. but... we'll discuss that later.

hope you are all well. hope spring has truly arrived at your door and that the flowers have (or will soon) fill your yard and home. what a glorious time of year.

back soon.... well, sometime...

On hold

Hello there. Thanks for reading this I know I have been slacking on this space for a few weeks now. And a few days ago, our computer broke. I'd been wondering if I should take a little blogging break, and it would seem that I should. Computer should be mended in the coming weeks and I hope I'll be back with vigor. In the mean time, happy hope-filled days to you, my friends. Thanks for reading.