Thoughts while walking

Garages are funny things aren't they? They are storage spaces for the stuff that overflows from our homes. For those of us that live in Texas, we don't have basement space and oftentimes very little if any attic space. And yet sometimes we try to hide are things out of sight. Other observations that live stream in a poetic sort of way:

The smell of onion that wafts through the air,

As cooking smells swirl everywhere.

Lights have been hung with loving care.

The soft padding of my shoes on pavement, the crunching of leaves beneath.

The whirring sounds of laundry.

Soft chirping mingles with traffic noises from afar.

Plumes of smoke rise beyond fences, as the smoking of meat commences.

Children decked out {in Jerseys} with an "M" attire, play ball with their dad in the yard while he perspires.

At this temperate time of year colors still burst forth in front gardens.

Some boasting a veritable jungle of foliage.

Back to the garages. I feel like there is a metaphor somewhere in there. We make space for the things we don't have an immediate need in the event we just might need them. I think of a time, when neighbors were much more connected, and we borrowed and lent things within a community. I don't know that I have a great conclusion to all this, but I love pondering our culture and how it reflects (and the ways that it doesn't) God's design. Creation and creatures crave connection and community. I'm glad God has placed me in mine for this season.