Yes, there will be days when your spirit may mirror the blanketing fog and ice. Call it lost, a pause, time for stillness, or whatever image best fits. In such moments, to remember yesterday’s walk in such different weather. The remnants from the last storm looked like milk spilled upon the drying mesa. The mountains in the background and the thirsty earth gently smiled as the image of spilled milk whispered. Mother Earth’s nurturing never ceases to flow. The milk of compassion pours upon the earth and heart without ceasing. We just have to pause and notice. To cherish the drink. Even more so, to drink deeply, so that when the weather changes, and it will, we can smack our lips and savor the sweet milk.