“The good of my life and comforts and my happiness are more in God than in myself.”
~ Jeremiah Burroughs, The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment
Things that made me happy in August:
Long evenings of light to read on the swing
Making Mema’s cucumber salad from all the cucumbers in the garden
Little Ozark mountain towns like Alpena, Arkansas, where the city hall, water works, and police department all share the same building
Grocery store flowers
Morning window light
Jared’s fascination with hummingbirds
A sick day tea and John Wayne movie
When the Vesta Baptist Church choir sings about heaven
How Don only uses Thee’s and Thou’s when he’s praying
Cool, clouded August days to walk the neighborhood and check on the flowers
Hudson’s one-tooth whistle
Leaning over the dugout at the baseball game with Elsie and the boys like I did when I was a kid
A Monday rain
The espresso latte Natalie made for me
Flying
Dark chocolate quinoa crisp cookie on the plane
Clouds below, like a topographical map of some Arctic island
Thomas Austin’s album, Eternal Life
The Orchard Cottage up in the hills of California, and the landlady who kept ducks and horses
Little California grocery store, and the two ladies who helped us save $55 in coupons
Oatmeal and a peach
The Pacific Ocean crashing against the coast
Eating our sandwiches high on the wet cliffs
Natural Arches
Walking an empty shoreline with the ocean diving toward us, scrambling up rocks before high tide to see the breakers explode over the boulders, white caps and foam
Surfers catching waves
A redwood forest walk: quiet, dark, and smelling sweet, like someplace in a storybook
The grandpappy of the grove: a sequoia tree with bark that twisted to the heavens
When the breeze blew down a flurry of golden leaves and needles
Hot tea and the Great British Bake Off
Long, not-yet-daylight drive to Yosemite; stopping at The Pony Espresso for a handmade sandwich and fresh coffee
Winding down into Yosemite Valley, when the pines parted, and we first saw El Capitan standing like a king over the trees
Windows down, blankets on, coffee hot, morning “commute” through the valley of stone
A glade of goldenrod hemmed in by El Capitan and Half Dome Rock
Glacier Point—windy and so high
Downtown Los Gatos—the dish store, hat shop, and greenhouse full of windchimes
Writing a postcard to Jared
A drive down Highway 1, the shoulder of California’s coast, where green mountains knelt down to touch the sea
Sharp winds, sun, rocks, beach running, a blowing skirt, kombuchas, and yellow poppies
California cows
Scrambling up a deserted boulder over the water, where the green waves got pulled into coves and caught there, throwing themselves against the walls; watching a heavy fog sweep in and turn the water gray, from something Caribbean-esque to a Scottish coast
Touring San Francisco with Dad’s cousin Chris (who is a lot like Dad)
Muffins and bread from a San Francisco bakery, the shops on the pier, a ferry ride through the fog to Sausalito, walking across the Golden Gate Bridge, where the wind blew every way, a ride on the poles of a trolley up the steep streets to Chinatown, and a fortune cookie shop
Rock climbing with Rick, who taught us how to “scramble” and “smear”
All the trees in California: birch, oak, spruce, fir, walnut, apple, peach, lemon, and of course, redwood and sequoia
On our last evening, a harvest moonrise over the crashing tides, like a great, golden, California peach
Flying home
bethanyjlincks.com 