A day of paradox. Sunshine turned gray. Thunder boomed. Snow fall whooshing parallel to the ground. Thunder boomed. Sleet joined the dance of wind swept snow. Silence. Golden sunshine and blue skies. Buds drained of life and color cradling water manifested in…..
If you look closely at the image you see so many gifts. Like the game of looking up at clouds. There is the turbulent image of rushing white waters careening over the waterfall. A view from above of snow capped…..
A morning that beckoned a drive and nature. I sat amazed at the cormorant with his wings outstretched. It seemed forever he remained still with wings open. When I got back I read to find they open their wings to dry…they…..
The clouds are walking heavy upon the sky. My little dog is barking at the thunder. Half of the sky is bright blue and brilliant sunshine. The other half midnight black. Suddenly golf ball size hail has started to fall. As I watch and listen…..
A prickly tumble weed not yet released to tumble. The hardness of stone. When touched by the sun gift the softness of a palette and art. Oh that the sun would likewise touch my often prickly hardened presence.
Sameness. The wind pushes against the door as I try to go outside. The mountains are shrouded. The eyes blink and even my little dog sneezes with the dust laden wind. Sameness.
Until. Until the whisper drew my eyes up straight into the wind. With…..
I was reading Thich Nhat Hahn’s words this morning of transforming the past. But are we not told we cannot undo the past? The past is transformed by how we respond to it in this moment, the present, now. That thread led me…..
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