Hello again from Nova Scotia, on a slow slide into spring. I have a few pictures to share of our stop by a country bridge. Not a person or vehicle in sight as I stopped to commune with the beautiful sights and sounds and scents of this wild place.
What appear to be rapids is just the serene reflection of the clouds.
a small river, really, that holds much of the spring run-off
Perhaps we could name it Cloud River
The reinforced river's edge
Scrub trees reflected in the water
Their soft cones still cling from last autumn
on the other side of the bridge the old power pole stands sentry in the red dogwood
gentle reflections by the river's bank.
Back at home the next morning, standing in the last of the snow, the ash tree,
or really, the ash trees for now, in the light of day, we can see that they are two.
And if you look closely, you can see the slightest parting in the middle.
They never looked more like two bodies hugging close.
The intense tenderness of the spring prelude that holds its promise close. This is the promise of love.
Let us be open to its secret heart.