blueberry crisp, an ode to summer

I love the sound of the birds in the morning. I love light pouring in through huge windows and the ever-changing scatter of tree shadows that accompany it. I love the vibrancy of nature's colors and the sound of sticks crunching beneath my feet.

I love a strong morning coffee in a comfortable chair, taking in all the innocent sweetness of the breaking of the day. Truly, I love crunchy and clumpy granola soaked in almond milk. I love creamy oatmeal and whole grain waffles and morning glory muffins. I love the rustic, bready things, where you can see the seeds and berries and taste the song of your body intaking such wholesomeness. I love tables filled with all the colors of summer delights- corn, tomatoes, bowls of berries, green salads. And I love spending the entire evening outside, from full-fledged heat to stars in the sky.

On the 4th, Aaron and I went blueberry picking. We picked about 5 pounds of blueberries, eating and pelting them at each other along the way. What I love about blueberry picking is that you can simply park yourself under a single bush for 10 minutes or so, and you just pick and chat until all the good ones have been plopped into your bucket and you can't possibly reach anymore. During one of these picking parkings, I told Aaron that if the opportunity presented itself, I truly think I would be a farmer. I was recently discussing this with my sister- sometimes all we want to do is buy a farm together and spend the days working on the land and the nights feeding anyone and everyone around. 

hopper carrot cake

I think that we as humans simply crave art. We just long for it, in whatever form it holds. Perhaps it's poetry or photography, or trekking through the forest. It's the thing that connects us to the deeper parts of our souls, and to the Lord. The thing that brings us joy, rejuvenates us, calms our anxieties, and brings us to a place of peace and creativity.

I tend to think that it will always be the same thing for me- food, being in the kitchen, serving people. But that is not always true. Sometimes my artist needs to go beyond its traditional boundaries and step foot into other avenues. It all depends on what has been lacking lately, or the longings welling up inside me, or the situation I'm in. And sadly, it often comes to a breaking point before I actually remove myself from the fluff around me and engage in the art that my heart needs. But whenever I do, it is so beautiful, so calming, so worth not doing whatever the other demands were.