🐾 The Moment Without the Key - Iowa Event Venue - 1884 On The Bluff

Meet River. a soft heart wrapped in a tough bark. Our loyal guardian of the Bluff. He's the quiet security team... with a history.

I walked all the way to the stone house with the dogs this morning, only to realize I left the key at home. My day’s work? Locked inside.

But the dogs had already decided otherwise.

Louie stretched into the shade. River sank into the sun. Both of them still, panting, eyes closed—worshipping the moment like it was holy. I felt guilty pulling them away. So I didn’t.

I stayed.

The sun broke through the haze, warming the left side of my face. A cool breeze rushed the backs of my bare knees. My hair, left to dry naturally the day before, lifted and danced in loose waves, playing along my shoulder.

I’m sitting here now, writing to you, still locked out but completely let in. No agenda. No to-do list. Just presence.

Maybe the key was never the point.

The dogs are settled. The sun’s had its say. Doug’s tools are humming and the side-by-side just zipped away—reminding me it’s time to move again.

Just as we made our way to where Doug was working, he looked up and said,

“Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve brought you the key.”

Of course he could have.

But then I might’ve missed the whole morning.

Now I’m heading home for real, River at my side on the leash, Louie trailing freely behind.

We walk slowly — not sure who initiated the easy cadence, them or me.

But none of us are in a hurry.

And for once, that feels just right.

May your steps be steady, the breeze kind, and your labor just the right amount of satisfying.