alive.

alive.

The morning was cloudy with light, misty rain.                                

Normally, who would want to be outside?

Yet, the golds and reds of autumn painted against a gray sky created a kind of peaceful seclusion, isolating me from the rest of the world.

I love the feel of the rich, damp earth.

Orange, purple, and yellow tulip bulbs were carefully pressed down into the cool ground.

I leaned against the tree, thinking where I would plant an azalea. I looked around at the drooping vines, lifeless hostas, and scattered leaves on the chilled ground.

Then a thought came to me.

We feel happiness.

Why should we not feel pain?

If we feel pain, we are alive.

And being alive is wonderful.

Because on a dismal day you can plant a tulip bulb.

It will lay lifeless and dormant below the cold earth.

But it’s really alive. It’s just waiting for its moment.

~~~

3 thoughts on “alive.

  1. Dear Kathleen,
    I love these pictures and the words that describe them. You are very poetic in your prose.

    Celebrate you!

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