Everywhere I turn in my mind’s eye today is twinged with death, a thick wood whose trees have lost all their leaves, save the few shrunken brown holdovers which cling, mostly out of habit, almost as if to remind of us what was once here. “Do not forget us,” they seem to whisper, as if it were possible, the bright green and resplendent fullness of summer’s end still gleaming in memory.
When we are fully grateful for the richness of being alive and all the messy wonders of existence... nope, nothing is more beautiful.
Bless you, sister-love.
Lovely!
Peekaboo, I love you!