It's really colorful here in Woods Cove. Still some fog burning off as I woke up this morning.
At Home
My sister's new home is starting to come together, in good time for the new dog in November and the new baby in February. I was there for my mid-week respite this week, and I took a few shots in the morning.
in Everyday, At Home, Golden Hour, Indoors
Never lose sight of what a blessing it is: the opportunity to live a peaceful life.
in At Home, Golden Hour, Urban
It never takes long after the solstice to start noticing that the days are getting shorter. I think this is one of the things that contributes to late July feeling so nostalgic: you can feel the days slipping away, little by little. Even though we have at least two more months of summer weather, the optimism of June already feels like a distant memory, slipping away just like the daylight. Don't get me wrong; I savor this time of the year for this very reason. Not even the dead of winter can rival the wistful feeling of late July. And other kind of optimism is right around the corner in August--the kind that leads to the beginning of the new term and towards wonderful fall days and cooler weather. But July is too early to be the run-up to autumn, and can only be felt as the decay of summer.
