Sunday, 3 October 2010

these precious fleeting days

These precious fleeting days.

Somehow the very small seems spectacular.

I hear the gurgling of water in the creek and an answer from pirouetting leaves as they touch the ground punctuated by little birds that rustle through the forage.

I find myself reminding those that miss the sun how rich the colours are without it.

And even imperfections are suddenly more beautiful.

Today a friend pointed to the crackled lacquer of the sky and we marvelled.

It's all marvelous, really.  All of it.
Keep an open heart.  It's the only way.


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