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Rain.
The trees shed their coats of snow…uncovering remains of last season’s color.
Imagine the strength? To survive? To endure?
To shine bright in spite?
Tonite - we light the first candle.
We sing. We eat latkes. We spin dreidels.
We celebrate a miracle.
A single drop of oil burned for eight days long.
Like the trees in winter.
We are.
Rooted. Strong.
We bend in the wind. We do not break.
We carry on.
It’s been days - maybe weeks - since I’ve seen the sun.
The trees and their branches appear bare.
The landscape - feels as if it’s lost all its glow.
Surrender.
Just be.
Simply notice without needing anything more or other.
It is.
And in that moment of acceptance - I stopped.
To look and see again.
Same eyes. A changed mind.
A different vision.
Sweet November.
Spirited…beautiful…full of unexpected energy and color.
Trees…and fog…and a family.
Minding their own.
Out for a picnic on a beautiful November day.
Soft in the quiet.
Peaceful in their Innocence.
Nature - in one of her many many extraordinary moments.
I admired them for their courage…their willingness to be seen.
I loved how they appeared so care free.
But - as I stopped to look…to hear…listen…
I felt my own fear and voice of caution:
‘Run Deer Run’.
Hunting season has officially begun.