Nature Does Not Hurry

“…yet everything is accomplished.” — Lao Tzu

Spring has eased into summer; summer into fall. The last of the leaves that blossomed out of this tree in March are falling to the ground to be whisked away by the next brisk October-soon-to-be-November winds.

I like Fall, with its brilliant colors that blaze in the sunlight like a phoenix on its pyre; but I enjoy Spring too, with its softer, muted colors, and promises of Yet-to-Be.

My heart, my soul, seem to be withdrawing into hibernation. I feel myself moving into Winter too, ready to become quiet and still until the days grow longer again.














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