I changed things up this afternoon.

The place where I sit every morning, is different now. I swapped out shallow basket weave tray for old wooden box that now holds my pencil, Bible and books.

The pencils and pens that rested there before are now sorted and pointing up to show their colors, they’re now living in a little caddy with the bottom missing, so I got it real cheap.

Heather came over and we walked and we talked and I broke a branch of pear tree blossom.

Brought it in, let it rest in little jelly jar and I remembered how my mama used to be on Saturday afternoon, late.

I’d walk in the back door and the den would be different, she’d found something out junkin’ and she’d rearranged the room around it.

We might sit and she’d talk and I always left my heart fuller and more wise.

The conversations slow, pensive pauses, insight straightforward, yet soft enough I held it, never considered it obtrusive, it was welcomed, her wisdom resting with mine just barely started.

It’s a generational thing, the wisdom unfettered, the joy in small changes.

My daughter walked with me this evening. I didn’t let her know; but, I could barely contain myself in my notice of her beauty.

The sun going down, the spring chill of breeze bringing her hair towards her cheeks, her loose ponytail bouncing.

And we talked, her wisdom rooted deeply and decidedly, not pulled right nor left and maybe some of it mine; but, most of all hers, my mama’s and a yes, just a little bit, mine.

“She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31:26‬ ‭NIV‬‬