Retreat
As I prepare for a retreat at work, I think of yesterday morning's drive. I was out early and every branch was coated with snow. The clouds were piled in pinks and purples on the horizon and a big old red sun was peeping up above the trees.
We seldom get so much snow so early, and the timing was perfect. The houses and lawns were decked out with red ribbon and green wreaths, with lights and colors. Never was their purpose clearer: to light our way through these dark days.
But the beauty, that was something else. Roads were icy and gravel crunched beneath my tires. I drove slowly — but still, I couldn't keep my eyes straight ahead. I kept looking up, down and around, mesmerized by the scene around me.
The day warmed quickly. An hour later that drive wouldn't have been the same. But for those few minutes ... I was in a retreat of my own.
We seldom get so much snow so early, and the timing was perfect. The houses and lawns were decked out with red ribbon and green wreaths, with lights and colors. Never was their purpose clearer: to light our way through these dark days.
But the beauty, that was something else. Roads were icy and gravel crunched beneath my tires. I drove slowly — but still, I couldn't keep my eyes straight ahead. I kept looking up, down and around, mesmerized by the scene around me.
The day warmed quickly. An hour later that drive wouldn't have been the same. But for those few minutes ... I was in a retreat of my own.
Labels: seasons
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