Nature . . . happens by . . . if we let her reveal herself to us.
In a full moon rising over the ridge . . . against a deep, indigo sky . . . not quite dusk.
A bluebird perched on the top of the small apple tree planted last fall . . . flashing the brightest royal blue wings against a rust breast.
A rabbit sauntering across the driveway . . . we are friends now . . . until he starts nibbling at my garden.
A deer prances across the field . . . and then runs in what appears to be wild abandon . . . with 4 or 5 more deer in the distance . . . each flashing a beautiful white tail.
The littlest bird, a gray or brown, with the sweetest song . . . next to the robin, of course.
Even an off grid cabin can keep one away from Nature . . . kept prisoner to routines and lists.
But . . . in a stolen moment . . . resting on a patio chair . . . Nature reveals herself.
What a great poem/reflection!
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Thanks, Eileen! Sometimes it is hard to find time for it.
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