Veiled in the Mist

I LOVE beautiful things from bygone days. Weathered things that have withstood the test of time—antique clocks, vintage china, old buildings, ancient trees, and historic places. The mystery encircling them simply enchants me.

I miss my frequent trips to Dorset.

I am especially drawn to old cobblestone streets like this one. Four years ago today I meandered up and down the oh-so-familiar Gold Hill in Shaftesbury. The old cottages, enshrouded in morning mist, stood stark white against the bubbled, brownish cobblestones, wet with dew, and covered in a velvety green moss. The memory lingers to this day.

Nostalgically, I recall the musty scent of damp shrubbery, rooted in rich black soil in crumbling pockets of the nearby stone wall. My gaze shifts to the distant rolling pastures veiled in the mist, and I marvel at the serene beauty of my surroundings.

Old things fill me with a sense of belonging, the promise of stability, endurance, dependability, and constancy. I feel a calmness fill my soul. A welcome peace.

Wherever you are today, whatever your circumstances, I pray your soul is filled peace.

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