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With a tremble in her voice, Leaf asked, “Whoo are you?
“Greetings, my name is Ice.”
“You look a little scary.” said Leaf
“Oh, sweet Leaf, there is no reason to fear me. Why do you think I look scary?” replied Ice
“Well, continued Leaf, “You come in the dark of night, freeze everything in sight— look at you— you are all sharp and pointy.”
“Oh Leaf, I’m sorry I scare you.”
“So why are you here.” stuttered Leaf.
“I am here, dear Leaf, to teach you the importance of being still. You have worked very hard all season providing shade for the birds, turning light into energy and you even clean the air we breath. You must be exhausted. Now is the time to rest. You job is done.”
With a softened voice Leaf said, “Thank you for recognizing all that I do, and yes, I am a bit tired.”
And so, Ice and Leaf laid quietly together.
Still at last.
“Greetings, my name is Ice.”
“You look a little scary.” said Leaf
“Oh, sweet Leaf, there is no reason to fear me. Why do you think I look scary?” replied Ice
“Well, continued Leaf, “You come in the dark of night, freeze everything in sight— look at you— you are all sharp and pointy.”
“Oh Leaf, I’m sorry I scare you.”
“So why are you here.” stuttered Leaf.
“I am here, dear Leaf, to teach you the importance of being still. You have worked very hard all season providing shade for the birds, turning light into energy and you even clean the air we breath. You must be exhausted. Now is the time to rest. You job is done.”
With a softened voice Leaf said, “Thank you for recognizing all that I do, and yes, I am a bit tired.”
And so, Ice and Leaf laid quietly together.
Still at last.
Live in color,
Abby
Abby
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What will be my lasting impression?
Beach-combing along the Oregon coastline revealed more than sand and stones. Along the ruggedly lush, often otherworldly shoreline I discovered one striking stone imprint after another.
Beach-combing along the Oregon coastline revealed more than sand and stones. Along the ruggedly lush, often otherworldly shoreline I discovered one striking stone imprint after another.
Igneous sediment from ancient volcanic activity paints a frame of brackish sand around each rock. A seemingly featureless rock is then elevated into a work of art.
For centuries, these rocks have been polished by the tides, then tumbled, washed and jostled to shore. Once the stone is nestled on the beach the volcanic sand sweeps and swirls around the nugget painting a stunning, vividly transient pattern. The occasional strand of seaweed, or lost feather, is then added by Mother Nature for compositional interest.
Which made me think: what will be my lasting impression for being tumbled, washed and jostled through life?
Like the humble beach rock, I can only hope my lasting imprint will also be one of endurance and beauty.
Live in color,
Abby
And Happy Thanksgiving
Abby
And Happy Thanksgiving