Stillness and balmy warmth. In the distance, the snow-thick mountains lie swathed in thick, grey clouds, concealing their peaks. Water divides up the forested land. Thin patches of beach lie here and there. I know that beneath the waters, crabs scuttle and seals swim and jellyfish drift.
My path is not made of water. It’s made of pavement beneath my feet, spiderwebbed with cracks. Petals from the trees dust the ground. The grasses are still not convinced it’s spring. They are still low-lying, swept aside as the little creeks run through them.
I smell wood smoke on the air. I see the haphazard beautiful of nature. This is where I belong. Wandering in the spring.
Check out my book! A little bit of God, love, common sense, and hope for the day.
“Following Your Feet, A Young Woman’s Journey”
Page Count: 287 (Second Edition)