Here are the tulips, budded and full-blown, their swoops and dips, their gloss and poses, the satin of their darks
Margaret Atwood, Dearly
A tulip doesn’t strive to impress anyone. It doesn’t struggle to be different than a rose. It doesn’t have to. It is different. And there’s room in the garden for every flower.
Sometimes the journey is more imporant than the destination…
Sometimes you have to forge your way ahead alone……and sometimes a friend will walk with you.There may be lots of colour……or darkness ahead.The path isn’t always clear……other times it’s wide open!
Don’t be afraid to ask for help.
So whether you are walking…uphill all the way……or riding in style…
…whichever way you are going, may it always lead you HOME.
Night is brushed aside like so much cobweb. The day is wound up and begins even before the last haunted dreams, the last of the fog, those spectral and evanescent residues, have faded away.
Evening at the river. As the sun slowly sinks toward the horizon, it’s warm glows barely kisses the tops of the trees. The birds begin to settle, only a few singing nursery rhymes to their little ones tucked safely in their nests.
Below the bridge, hidden in the foliage, a bullfrog trumpets twice, and then falls silent.
Overhead, a few wispy clouds continue their journey east. The river continues it’s journey too, winding first south, then west, and winding again. It will thunder over the waterfall downstream, before winding its way toward a larger body of water far past the town. Like time, the river never ceases to slip away.
But here, though I know it is moving, it appears still. The surface is like glass, capturing a perfect moment with cloud and tree. As the surface darkens with the setting sun, the smaller plants floating on the surface begin to look more like stars, and the clouds, distant galaxies. I feel very small in a great big world.
I turn and head for home. It will soon be time to sing my own evening song, before I slip away.
Sometimes the night was beautiful Sometimes the sky was so far away Sometimes it seemed to stoop so close You could touch it but your heart would break