I keep trying to get to this particular "place". Seems I'm always in a hurry to move- as if magically, we'll be "there" and... *poof* everything is as it should be.
I don't have a place name for it. It looks like this...
It has been a hot day. Humid. Hard working. Sweaty day. Physically worked. Hot. Wiped.
You sit back in a rocker. Feet up on the porch rail. Ice ice ice cold sweating amber glass bottle of beer, as it pops open. First sip. Ahhhh....
It all melts away.
That is the place I keep trying to which I find myself endlessly striving.
Job well done.
As of yet... still futile.