Just returning from a sweet and beautiful trip to see my lively brother and now sister marry.  The trip was lengthened due to floods preventing us from crossing the highways.  On the way back yesterday at a sandwich shop somewhere in rural New York I found a little flyer that read “The last seven days have been tramatic for everyone.  Lost belongings, lost pets, lost homes and loved ones require a renewed sense of faith.”  

I stared at it with little boy in sling and my big boys tiny hand in mine.  I was once again hammered with the thought that most people so often are, this is it.  Tinged with guilt that I was so lucky to escape this tragedy, this time, I let myself be happy for this past week I was able to spend with my family and friends on the breathtaking island they spend their days on.

I felt that perhaps there were good things to come for those people in this small town.  We wandered through the most random garden behind the sandwich shop.  Welcome written in ten different languages on a post in the center.

We had a lovely trip.  We took advantage of every moment we had sunlight and some that didn’t.

(p.s the dates on the pictures are off… my old camera broke and I forgot to fix the dates on this one)