Where the Heart Is

The Bohemian juices ginger only to have the whole concoction get turned upside down. It’s not a problem. I’m entranced by the color, so vibrant I have to grab my camera.

As I snap away at the contrasting hues, he’s the one that notices the heart.

Jessica Dofflemyer ~ all rights reserved

I do believe that home is where the heart is. And yesterday was the first day in the steady transition of melding our worlds to one abode.

Keeping his priorities clear, the Bohemian’s initial day of moving brings just a few boxes with only the essentials. Tools and kites. (And two more bags of groceries).

photo by the Bohemian ~ all rights reserved

At sunset, we eat at the table on the lawn under purple gray clouds. A single candle, the Bohemian, Jeb and I. We smile and munch on kale salad from the garden growing, nearby.

Nene geese fly low over our heads and sound their call.

“Hey, look, there are three,” the Bohemian says, looking up then back at us both.

Uh-huh. Again, I hadn’t noticed it in that way, but I think I know exactly what he means.

 

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