In the midst of the very hard parts of social distancing, this weekend I found myself thanking God that we at least get to stay close to the trees. Quite frankly, I don’t know what I would do if I was no longer allowed to move myself through a full forest of them.
Sometimes the fog holds a certain darkish murk in its clammy clutches. Even so, I am drawn to wandering away from the warmth of the home and into the thick of it. Cutting a trail of light through the darkness makes me feel alive.
When the world spins at a foolishly dizzying pace of swirling frenzy, I wander the flower fields of the back forty and fall fully into the arms of the unsparing grace and full embrace of mother earth. She is lovely and languid and always waiting for me. She takes me close into herself and I take her close into me.
Sifting for the Sacred 