Soggy, shredded, moist from the most recent deluge of rain a log fallen and seemingly lifeless and rotting, instead it sits like a cave on a plateau, high above the denseness of the earth, the forest floor. In it, new growth takes hold and life begins. Life in a most unlikely place.
When I look at this it gives me courage. It makes me think that anything is possible. It gives me hope that my dreams will come true.
May life sprout. May it take hold in a dark cold wet place within you and give you courage. May your dreams come true.
After a heavy wind, the kind that takes you out in fragments, scattering chips, and limbs and needles. Making you wonder what just happened. It starts with just one bite but then grows to a colony of doubt and insecurity, fear and uncertainty. You become hollow, just a shell of mild expression, seeming strong and unfailing.
Sheer will gets you through the tough times even when you don’t realize how fragmented you really are. When a strong wind will bend and break what seems to be solid, and someone has to come along and pick you up from the side of the trail.