Delicate and Hand-Picked Love - Take Walks with your Spouse to Spruce Connection

Since the quarantine quarter has flipped upon “stay at home” heads, my husband and I have been on many “walk-abouts” throughout the Outback of Houma and Thibodaux. .

We’ve walked, trekked, and hiked throughout trails of Godly love. We have bonded under Live Oak glimmer leaves and white-bloom Magnolia trees. We’ve chatted while Mocking birds added to the tea delight conversation. Woodpeckers clanked as souls planked o’er streets of deep heart beats.

If you want to reconnect with your spouse, take an engaging walk. Make sure to leave all distractions behind, especially your phone. Place all pettiness at home, and find your home in your soulmate’s heart-emblem eyes once again. .

Want to Spruce up your kinship to the hearts? Put on some comfortable clothes and stable tennis shoes and stabilize the marriage banks. Stroll under Blue Spruces and watch your husband pick a delicate love note. .

The effect of walking reciprocates joyful tendencies. .

Pace yourself under the canopies of kaleidoscope sun spots. Immerse yourself in God’s joyous presence. Plunge into your husband’s or wife’s mind. Then, happiness will plume.

Joy came yesterday as we walked the path behind our apartments. My husband strayed to the side of the road. He picked a lavender buttercup. He gently handed it to me as a delicate token of his love for me. .

I urge you to take “walk-abouts” with your loved ones, especially during this time. You’ll find a new-found “delicate and hand-picked love”.

Comments

Look for the Blessing Red Birds, Cherry Blossoms, and Orchids of Beauty in Life

March has marched in with a vengeance of change. In the Trojan horse saddlebags hid a shrewd surprise, Coronavirus. The gray clouds of uncertainty pelted us with “riddle me this” rain. The Trojan horse then galloped over valleys of vividness. Alas, the vivid vex was prevalent over states and pastures. The virus staked our soil with transforming turmoil. Ah, but that riddle rain also brought with it growth of cherry blossoms. They grew tall and strong amidst wrestling weeds of “where’s the joy?” I was covered by those cheerful cherry blossom trees last weekend. My Birthday was March 16th. I must admit, I felt as if one of my unwanted presents was the looming virus. I sensed a thick foreign fog. But, my husband, my Superman, saved my “Birthday”. He pulled me from the dense fog and flew me around our “Metropolis”. We shopped, reminisced, ate cheesecake, and laughed with merriment. It’s as if he set me upon a marriage merry-go-round. Round-and-round we go, on love embellishe...

Pine Heart Roots

On a Friday afternoon, I packed the car and my mom and I drove down Sea Blue Lane. Our destination was Pine Prairie, Louisiana. Wheels rolled down blacktop while music notes rocked and rolled through the Malibu. We sped through Lafayette and entered “Country Land”. As I passed by horses, my eyes lit up with little girl joy, as usual. Cows grazed as clouds speckled their backs. The bayous were fading behind us as pine trees started to grow in their place. The scenery was refreshing, renewing our minds with fresh crawfish waters. We finally arrived at my cousin, Dana’s house and parked upon O’Banion territory. I needed to strip my bark of “stress needles” and regrow peace around my “pine heart”. I was feeling distant from my dad. Year after year, the roughness I once felt on his hand was smoothing. He is branded in my heart, but I needed that brand to be lit under fire ...

Country Bound

Country Bound I travel down a mellow, yellow sunflower road upon miniscule “wishing” pebbles. A monument stands tall amiss sprightly wildflowers. Rustic, red barn, tell me your wisdom, tell me your stories. A split rail fence is my guide, built by thick, rough hands. It dances to a patterned rhythm around a charming, pastel blue farmhouse. I am country bound, my soul to be found. I pass by a field flowing with radiant corn. Stalks stand tall, presiding over misty pastures. Golden wheat is nuzzled with sunny rays. It waltzes with the wind and tangos with blades of grass. Hearts of farmers beat in rolling hills, growing “love soy seeds”. An apple pie sits on a crackled window sill cooling for attention. Cinnamon swirls through a two-story house. Maple beans, sweet greens, and cornbread overflow the Amish-built table. Greens pop into savoring mouths. Sugary beans candy-coat t...

Search This Blog