Vermont: Wednesday, August 12

I listened to a hummingbird today as it hovered above my head eating nectar from a feeder. 

The lake was so quiet that I could hear his wings as they vibrated much like a bee might buzz. 

I went for a jog and heard not one single voice. Instead just the sounds of nature and the occasional car surrounded by my own moans and groans. 

My children jumped in the lake so many times that I lost count. They'd come out, change out of their clothes, drape the wet ones over the railing and within an hour, be wanting to get in the water again. What's the point of bathing suits? Instead they'd just go back in with whatever they were wearing. Stumble out later and hang those clothes to dry too. Again and again and again.

Abigail took photos. And more photos. And a lot more photos. Pictures of birds. Lots of pictures of birds. 

John sat on a log in the woods for much of the middle part of the day -- unpacking a lunch he put together himself -- resting with the birds. 

I helped Hannah put together some sort of craft with beads. 

I played ping-pong with Isaac.

I braided the girls' hair to keep it from getting too tangled on their repeat jaunts into the lake.

I attempted the paddle board. A standing board. And I fell. Hit my hand on a rock. Thought: "Crap. Is John really going to have to do stitches on me on his vacation?" But he said he could just skin glue it. And he did.

I rested. 

My farm is a peaceful place too. A place that I can hear the hummingbirds and don't hear noises when I run and Abigail can take pictures. 

But there are chores to do and a house too clean. 

Here … I rest. 

My soul. My body. My spirit. 

Click here for more photos.