• sand between my toes
• traveling through random stretches of rural Alabama on a two-lane road to get there
• the rhythm of the waves as they crash
• dodging jellyfish while walking or fighting the waves
• one, good sunburn
• casual living
• Peach Park fruit bowls, homemade banana ice cream and scary animal-head trash cans
• salt water burning in my nose
• sleeping in
• People Magazine
• remembering that God created beauty and rest
• limp, body-less hair, distracted by the humidity
• no schedule
• the “Go to Church or the Devil will get you!” sign
• swimsuits, beach towels and Airbrush T-shirts on every corner
• memories of youth groups long ago and college retreats
• ice cream, fried shrimp, and boiled peanuts on the side of the road (not all at the same time)
• feeling the sun on my skin
• Southern Pines and Magnolias
• analyzing the color of the warning flag
• really long quiet times of prayer and meditation
• remembering that there is something greater than me

Does anyone know what these brown spiky things are called?

I’m married, with no children, a college graduate, living and working outside of Nashville, Tennessee, active in a wonderful church, a perfectly respectable human being–albeit, living in “the North”, with quite the accent–but with undeniable roots from the heart of Dixie herself!

Near the end of high school, I remember thinking that I would not even consider going back for my reunion unless I was married with at least one child. Fortunately, I’m not as dependent on external factors for my identity and security anymore. I am nothing, if not the picture of confidence now. So, I went anyway.

High school reunions do make you think, though. Am I where I thought I would be at this age? Am I who I thought I would be? Why haven’t I spoken to so many of these people in the last 10 years–these people who were a part of my life everyday for so many years? Have I accomplished everything that I thought I would accomplish by now? Does it even matter? How many different experiences have I had in the last 10 years? If I weren’t just-oh-so-grounded it might affect me. But thankfully, I have absolutely no regrets. Not one. So, there’s nothing for me to think about except for what a lovely time I had seeing old friends and introducing Harry to some of Alabama’s finest. (For the uncersored version, you’ll just have to email me.)

Here are a few photos for your viewing pleasure.