"It's been struck by lightening," my husband pointed out to me.
The tree was one of only a few mature trees still standing in the nature preserve
where we walked trails yesterday.
Scarred but still standing.
Scarred but still standing.
And silent. 
It was one of several lessons I carried home with me
from the nonverbal instruction of creation. 
"I am not unlike that tree," I muse.  "Scarred but still standing."
........ 


 
 
 
Still standing, like the tree.
ReplyDelete"...as silent as was this wetland
ReplyDeletewhose stillness penetrated deep into my soul."
Ahh...bliss!
I kept the page open and keep looking at that picture. Beautiful stillness!