I grew up in Arkansas. I’m intimately familiar with its beauty. But my little Texan babies are not. So, watching them experience the Arkansas country side first hand fills me with nostalgia and love. With spring just barely in the air, we drove deep into the Ozark mountains to the tiny town of Pyatt, where my sister has a hidden cabin tucked away between three lively creeks. It was a chilly visit, but that didn’t stop the little cousins from wading in the creeks as daddy taught them to skip stones.
It was a short trip, but the memories these cousins will share will be huge. Memories like finding the perfect walking stick that also makes a great make believe wizards staff… searching for arrow heads but finding “funny” shaped rocks instead… and trying to pull apart sticky marshmallow covered gloves by the fire…
Until next time,
