Tipping

Beauty found in broken-ness.

Our picnic bench, which I wanted so badly three summers ago, lies alone.  Decaying with neglect. Used only a handful of times.  Two picnics.  One marshmallow and hot dog roast.  Watermelon spitting. The occasional snack.  But mostly a horizontal space for young flowers, cat naps, and chicken roosts.  Slowly fading in color and strength.

"Crunch."  John Deere metal is stronger than the brittle dry wood.  And quickly the leg falls.  No longer horizontal it serves only as the occasional safe chicken resting spot.

But the autumn rush did not allow repair or removal.  And so the snow builds.  Climbing.  Piling.  Sloping.  But beautiful.

Snow reminds me of growth. "Growth?" you say.  "How can anything grow in snow?"  But it is true. The deep white heavy snow brings renewal.  Yes, there is rest.  And I'm happy for it.  But growth occurs in wintertime.

Without rest roots do not push deeper.  Without rest the fine feathers of bramble, blueberry and strawberry roots do not penetrate and absorb essential nutrients.  Without rest many fruiting trees and flowers would not bloom.  We all need rest.  Rest to grow.

Snow.  Purest white in nature.  Cleansing. Renewing.  Restful.  

In my life I too must rest.  Yet, "underneath" I am preparing, deepening, stretching, yearning... Spring will come when the embodiment of all that winter growth is released.  So today I ponder. I dream. I drink up possibilities, nibble on potentials, and feast on Truth.  It's a nourishing time.  A restful time.  A growing time.

Today's Journey Joy - growing in snow