I have a curious nature - especially when it comes to history and stories.  I have spent many an hour listening to my dad, my grandpa and my uncles tell stories.  These tales had a way of capturing me and taking me to another place and time, taunting my imagination and inviting me to "pretend" as if present!  Sometimes it took my making the decision to sit and listen enough to become involved in the story, but once I had walked through that "gate" I was there for the endurance!  Those stories often went on for hours as we sat on grandma's back porch sharing a cold watermelon or freshly baked berry cobbler.

It seems the art of story-telling all too often gets lost in the shuffle of busy life these days.  I miss the slow Sunday afternoons when everyone put down the plows, pens and paychecks to simply enjoy one another.  The smell of a hot pot of chicken n dumplins' usually inspired pulling out the benches and chairs and an anticipated afternoon of memories and chuckles!

I would encourage us all to take more time to open the gate and walk through.  Grab a stool or a cold iced tea and let the conversations begin!  Maybe we need to allow the colors of life to spring up more often.  Maybe a little laughter and time to reminisce would be good medicine for us all!