During one of the recent “snow days” I ventured down a side trail near the park by my home. Normally a gravel and dirt path it was a smooth white rippling bank of snow. I focused my attention on one of the birch trees by the creek, weighted down by ice, dripping lightly on
me. I silently told it about my worries and how I wished I could just let them go. The tree “replied” that sometimes life freezes in hard times, making us brittle, weighing us down, bringing us to ground level. Yet, as soon as the cold weather passes the birds come back, the plants are hydrated, the natural order seems to know its original places and restores like a giant cycle of breath, closing and expanding, we melt. When I returned a few days later after the snow had thawed, the tree was about five feet higher up from my stance, no longer leaning over from the heavy snow.
Posted: Monday, February 4th, 2013