Bright, Clear Morning...

In the summer, when I look out on the trees, I am always taken aback by the wide expanse of green.  It's a wall of green that seems solid.  It's easy to forget that each pixel of color is a leaf with a stem on a tree.  It is easy to forget the branches and the twigs and the roots that dig into the earth.

But in the winter, when the leaves have long since let go and fallen to the ground and the snow covers everything, it is hard to ignore the tracery of black lines against the cold white.  On bright, clear mornings, the trees cast shadows that double and lengthen the lines in the snow.

We have had a quiet holiday season – no parties or festivities.  It is a stark contrast to prior years.  One might think that something was wrong or out of place, but it isn't like that.  It just feels like a time for quiet contemplation.

I was talking with a friend the other day and I told her that I felt as though there was a strong feeling that change was in the air.  I couldn't pinpoint exactly what was going to change, just that something major was going to happen.  It feels as though over the last few months… years… I have been setting down roots.  And now that I have done that… it's time to stretch my branches and reach higher.

But before the spring comes with new growth, there has to be a time to slow down and examine the lines in the snow… a map of where things are meant to go.