Finding Joy in Stillness and Solitude…

This weekend at Swampy Bottom Acres was a gentle reminder that sometimes, the greatest journeys we take are the ones that lead us inward. With the gates firmly closed to the outside world, I found solace in the simple pleasures of home. The world outside could wait; for these precious hours, I was free to just be. Just be me!

Saturday morning bloomed with an invitation to get my hands a little dirty. My garden, bursting with late-season flowers, called me. As I made my way up and down the porch and not the yard snipping, watering, gently coaxing life to continue, to renew… I felt a peaceful rhythm settle over me. There’s something healing about tending flowers, like each petal is a small prayer for beauty and growth. The colors, the scents, the soft hum of bees—these quiet moments are the ones that linger.

With flowers cared for, I turned my attention to the indoors. Cleaning, often a chore, felt like a moving meditation—each sweep and wipe returning my space to its best self. But the true magic of the weekend came in the stillness. I let myself simply exist, no agenda, no pressure. The weather outside was so delightful, I opened the doors and had the fresh air blowing through the house. The gentle sounds of Swampy Bottom Acres—wind in the trees, the song of the birds coming to visit the feeder, they were my soundtrack.

Ahhhh… The sweetness of solitude…  Maybe it’s a little selfish, but being home brings me boundless happiness. There’s a faint whisper of guilt in how deeply I enjoy this solitude, as if joy should always be shared. But I’ve learned that contentment can be an entirely personal celebration. The gates stayed closed for me, and that’s exactly what my soul needed. Sometimes, the best feeling in the world is simply knowing you’re right where you belong.

Sunday morning dawned and I actually saw the sun. It has been another cool day in the swamp, blessedly. I watched the red birds come for breakfast as I tuned in to Dr, Charles Stanley and listened to his message back door open, the sound of dogs playing and birds chirping my symphony. Another day of porch sitting, walking about the acres and throwing dinner in a crock pot.  As night descends it finds me curled up in my Queen chair in front of the TV,  the mutts sleeping next to me as I enjoy letting my mind wander and dream. Out the window, darkness enveloped Swampy Bottom Acres, a gentle rain dripping from the tin roof. Tomorrow is Monday and soon I’ll need to “people” again… face errands, bustle about, rejoin the world outside these gates. But for one more night, I get to be still, to dream, to soak up the quiet contentment that home gives so freely.

Some weekends are for adventure, others for company. This one was simply for me, for flowers, for cooking, for cleaning, and for the peaceful joy of just being home. Before I drift off to sleep in a bit, I will spend time talking to God, thanking Him. I am grateful for the breathing time, the time to notice, to feel, to wallow in the joy of home.   
To remember—sometimes the best adventures happen when the gates stay closed.
Home is where My Heart finds rest….