As the day comes to a close, the sky promises what man can not – an end to the storm.
Misty air fills my lungs, uncoiling my tightly controlled expectations for the morning, allowing the rosy glow of sunrise to enter creating space creating newness a rebirth of the day.
The creek lies deep in its bed casting points of light skyward. Motionless, the coyote watches my slow advance, then turns and drifts away, blending into shadows. I follow, walking past an ancient hickory, its trunk hollowed. I wonder at its strength to remain standing, bark thick and ridged. My time in this place isContinue reading “nesting”