The Walk.

I walk home with a warm feeling in my heart. Comfort. Peace. I'm walking with a spring in my step. The cement beneath my feet is hard and cracked. I walk with the words of Sara Bareilles flowing through my mind. I look over my shoulder at the sun that has turned into a hazy shade of bronze. And yet the sky around it looks overcast from the wildfires in the far off distance. What should be the smell of fresh air has now turned into the smell of campfire. I feel the breeze brush softly across my face and through my hair.

I walk and look at the cars passing by on Main Street. Wishing that they would all slow down, get out of their car, and take the same slow walk that I am taking now. Put all their troubles aside, and just walk. I daydream the impossible as I walk past the hair salons, ice cream shops and craft stores. Everything is just the way it should be. 

I walk into my apartment and look at the smiling faces of my beautiful roommates. Either doing homework or playing the guitar or laughing at something funny they found on Pinterest. I smile and think of how lucky I am to be surrounded by wonderful daughters of God. 

I walk into my room. I open my laptop. Turn on the song that was the names sake of this blog, and start typing. Hoping that the right words come out. And think about the walk home.