I've been spending a few days in Tennessee visiting family, and one thing I always try to do when I'm here is spend as much time outside as possible.
There's something about the scenery and the sounds that I don't get to experience quite the same way back home in Texas.
For one, the weather is cooler this time of year. We've just started getting a little relief from the heat in Texas, but Tennessee feels different. The air is less humid, the landscape is full of rolling hills, and there are more wide-open spaces where nature seems a little less interrupted by everything we've built around it.
I love watching the afternoon sunlight peek through the leaves of the trees, illuminating all the different shades of green. The sun can still feel surprisingly strong against the cool air. And then there are the sounds of the birds, crickets, and frogs.
It's like a whole little naturscape.
I find it incredibly relaxing.
I've had a lot on my mind lately, and I've noticed that being outside helps me clear my head. Not necessarily because I'm trying to work through everything, but because I become so captivated by what's happening around me that my worries seem to fade into the background for a while.
Today, I wandered around the backyard and spent some time watching my dad's bees.
I stood off to the side of the hive, close enough to zoom in with my camera but far enough away that I wouldn't disturb them.
I've learned that as long as I respect their space, they generally go about their business without bothering me.
And that's exactly what they were doing.
Bees were entering and exiting the hive, each moving with what seemed like such determination and purpose. I found myself watching them come and go, thinking about how each one has a role in keeping the hive healthy.
It's fascinating when you really stop to watch.
I also felt a sense of appreciation for the work my dad has put into caring for them. It's one thing to know someone keeps bees, but it's another to stand there and observe this little world they've helped nurture.
And for those few moments, I wasn't thinking about everything else going on.
I was just watching bees.
Funny how something so simple can hold your attention.
Being back in Tennessee has also made me think about how much things change when you're away.
I lived here for so long that I never imagined I would eventually call another state home. When you're somewhere every day, I think changes happen so gradually that you don't always notice them. But I've been gone for ten years now, and every time I come back, I see something different.
Nashville especially.
The skyline has changed, with more high-rises appearing and so many of the smaller mom-and-pop establishments becoming harder to find. There's a lot of attention on Broadway, the honky-tonks, the bachelorette parties, and the restaurants bearing the names of famous musicians.
But yesterday, I got to experience a little piece of the Nashville I remember.
We ate lunch at Wendell Smith's, a longtime restaurant on Charlotte Avenue. Interestingly, I'd never eaten there when I actually lived in Tennessee.
Walking in, we were greeted with a simple invitation to sit wherever we wanted.
There was a handwritten list of the day's meat-and-three offerings clipped to the menu. And yes, in Tennessee, macaroni and cheese counts as a vegetable.
I ordered barbecue, macaroni and cheese, green beans, and creamed potatoes with a roll. It was good, and there was so much food I couldn't finish my plate.
But what I enjoyed most wasn't necessarily the food.
It was the atmosphere.
There were people in suits, people in construction clothes, and regular customers joking around with the cashier as they paid their checks. It felt like more than a restaurant. It felt like a place people had been returning to for years, a place that had managed to hold on to its character.
And I got the feeling that the people who continued showing up were holding on to it, too.
It reminded me of the Nashville I knew and worked in.
I cherished that meal and the time spent together.
I guess I never imagined, when I lived here, that I'd someday return as a visitor and see everything through such different eyes.
And perhaps that's part of why I've been trying to take in every moment I can while I'm here.
The rolling hills, the familiar scenery, the sounds of nature, the little places that still feel like the Tennessee I remember.
There's comfort in all of it.
I've written before about slowing down and paying attention, and apparently it's something I need to keep reminding myself to do.
Because back home, it's so easy to get caught up in the next thing, and the next thing, and the next.
There's always something that needs my attention.
But this week has reminded me how much better I feel when I give myself a little time to be still, look around, and take in what's happening right in front of me.
I don't necessarily need to be in Tennessee to do that.
I just need to be more intentional about making room for it.
And maybe that's something I can take home with me.
