For many years now, the Molesky clan has gone pheasant hunting the day after Thanksgiving. We missed a few years when church planting in Florida, but are back on track with our return to Minnesota.
There is something restorative about walking in a field, hearing the crunch of your boots on frost covered grasses, feeling both the chilly breeze and warm sunshine on your face at the same time, watching a black labrador do what she was made for, and the sense of joy that comes from being with family. It made me realize that I should do this far more often than I do.
The hunting party was made up of Grandpa Molesky, Uncle Chris, myself, Colton, and this year, my nephew Thomas. Three generations of Molesky men. Next year, Ezra may go, and almost certainly Isabella will join us.
Praying you have a great thanksgiving weekend.