Driving from Dallas to Little Rock, I watch the landscape rush past my window. High above winter fields and railroad tracks, clumps of bird and squirrel nests perch in bare branches. I think about those birds and squirrels and the vistas they enjoy completely different from my typical view five-feet-seven-inches from the ground.
As children we draw, sing, create stories for dolls and battles for army men. Each day is new as we live life from different places. Literally. Underneath the bed, atop the highest tree branches, inside the attic, beneath a fort made of freshly laundered sheets. Within our minds…
The windows of The Garden Cafe are papered with snowflakes, each one as unique as the child behind the scissors. The monster snowflake catches my eye first. Whimsical, fun.
Today I hope to see life from a different angle, stretch my mind, be the girl who colors outside the lines. Only maybe I’ll cut out funny flowers instead of silly snowflakes.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Sheryl Crow, A Change Will Do You Good