The muddy road on the west side of our property cuts the morning mist and draws me forward like a whisper from my big sister in church.
“Do you want a Life Saver?”
No drama. Nothing fancy. Just a sweet reminder that I am not alone.
These days, as Glenn works his magic in the backyard, reclaiming a lush lawn from the places where years of leaves and pine cones, branches and pine straw, had made their bed secure, and building stone walkways and wooden decks for the barns, I plow hours into the University’s landscape.
Both of us, each in our own way, are quietly making Orangeburg our home, and the shared purpose is a blessing that could too easily go unnoticed.
We’re busy, often tired, and our work isn’t easy or simple. But progress is as unmistakable as the spring-green leaves that have suddenly appeared in our woods.
Forward is a pleasing place.