Every oak will lose a leaf to the wind.
Every star-thistle has a thorn.
Every flower has a blemish.
Every wave washes back upon itself.
Every ocean embraces a storm.
Every raindrop falls with precision.
Every slithering snail leaves its silver trail.
Every butterfly flies until its wings are torn.
Every tree-frog is obligated to sing.
Every sound has an echo in the canyon.
Every pine drops its needles to the forest floor.
Creation’s whispered breath at dusk comes
with a frost and leaves within dawn’s faint mist,
for all of existence remains perfect, adorned,
with a dead sparrow on the ground.
Inspired by Becca’s Sunday Trees
The garden suggests there might be a place where we can meet nature halfway ~
My entry for Cee’s FOTD
“Place a beehive on my grave
And let the honey soak through.
When I’m dead and gone,
That’s what I want from you.
The streets of heaven are gold and sunny,
But I’ll stick with my plot and a pot of honey.
Place a beehive on my grave
And let the honey soak through.”
When a flower doesn’t bloom, you fix the environment in which it grows, not the flower ~
Roses in Madrid!
I cling to my imperfection, as the very essence of my being ~Anatole France
When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for your strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself ~Tecumseh
There are so many macro moments everyday that I am grateful for.
And then I am super grateful for a milestone.
Chains do not hold a marriage together. It is threads, hundreds of tiny threads, which sew people together through the years ~ Simone Signoret
Yesterday we celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary in our own special way with a hike and a fantastic picnic. The weather supports us too.