It was going to be a quiet but productive day at home, working on homework, job applications, and sewing orders for Brighter Day, and I would capture pieces of it every hour or two with my camera.
What I didn't expect were the feelings that would come as I looked through these pictures at the end of the day.
I thought I'd see the beauty surrounding me.
I thought I'd be more thankful for the things I'm so blessed with.
And I did. Both of those things.
But more than that, I felt an overwhelming grief at how often I have taken this amazing place for granted. I've lived here for two years, and for most of that time, I've refused to be content. On so many days, being away from the city - the people, the diversity, the energy - felt so suffocating. I cried because I missed it so much, and I would have rather been anywhere but here. I complained about seeing goats and horses instead of people. I complained about driving 20+ minutes to get just about anywhere. I whined. A lot.
And even now, even as I write that, my eyes burn with tears.
How much have I missed?!
I told Shawn about my day when he got home (during that big time gap you see toward the end), and as soon as I did, I wept. Wept. I didn't know these feelings of remorse would be so powerful, but they came out at once and I couldn't contain it.
It hit me like a ton of bricks today... a year from now, I won't live in this little yellow house on acres of beautiful land.
I won't wake up to this kind of beauty.
I won't cook meals looking out at running water and galloping horses.
I won't run barefoot through dewy grass to pick tomatoes out of my garden.
I won't call this place home.
It's ironic that Franklin has been home for these past two years - and for most of my life - and yet it's just now feeling like home in the last few days and weeks.
Maybe you're reading and thinking, "You're being way too hard on yourself." But as hard as I've tried to point out the things I adore about living here on this blog (and there are many things that I do), my heart has not been content for so long. And I want that to change. We may not live here for much longer, who knows. But I can live differently for however long it is. So however much longer I live in this house, you can bet I'm going to soak it up. Every drop. I didn't know these silly pictures could make me want to do that, but they did. They really, really did. And I am thankful for the conviction they caused.