As a kid, we used to see how fast we could spell Mississippi. It has a rhythmn to it. A taste of sweetness. Those letters slide off the tongue like a whimsical passing of the breeze. In Buffalo, NY, there is a place we used to visit as kids called Mississippi Muds. How's that for alliteration? And this place is the definition of whimsy. Just picture a somewhat worn down diner looking stand with a tarnished banner that says "Mississippi Muds." There is a place for you to eat up above outside on a deck overlooking the water and the clouds as they pass by. We sat down to a loving conversation with bees buzzing passed us as we enjoyed an ice cream and sweet potato fries with honey. It's just a little nook of comfort. We walked along (the four of us) through the green grass, taking pictures and watching others ride bikes and walk along. 

I noticed an older couple on the bunch smiling and gazing at us as we walked by as if they noticed the spring in our step and the way we laughed together. That Mississippi Mud whimsy is contagious. Passed along from person to person and place to place and side to side. And you know, for some reason, it was in this little nook of life that people seem to really notice eachother's whimsy. I noticed the smiles on the benches. I noticed the little toddler running beside her father in the grass. I noticed the picnic's and the glimmer in the eyes of those enjoying the sweet potato fries. And the people around us-well, they appeared to notice that whimsy as well. 

A little ice cream and sweet potato fries with honey can warm the soul with syrupy spirit that is life itself. We live moments in these nooks of happiness intentionally. Because in nooks like these, intentionality is brought forth. And there is an urgency to appreciate that mississippi mud whimsy.