I wait, wait, wait and then bam summer arrives and the hours I need in the day are too few. But maybe because my priorities are confused and I sit too long just watching, noticing what yesterday I might have missed. Oh wait, that is not a skewed priority. I'll get to the other stuff. Maybe. Tomorrow.
This line made me catch my breath: "This is not frantic blooming however. It is the steady, ordered abundance of a world that knows how to wait its turn. The trees do not envy the grass."
Time (especially with littles in the house) so often feels relentless, the chase for the next milestone, the next holiday, the next season leads from one headlong rush to another. But we are meant to be trees, unenvious of the fleeting green of Spring's grass. Forever reflecting the seasons through our branches but never lifting our roots.
Nature does not rush. It just never stops.
I wait, wait, wait and then bam summer arrives and the hours I need in the day are too few. But maybe because my priorities are confused and I sit too long just watching, noticing what yesterday I might have missed. Oh wait, that is not a skewed priority. I'll get to the other stuff. Maybe. Tomorrow.
This line made me catch my breath: "This is not frantic blooming however. It is the steady, ordered abundance of a world that knows how to wait its turn. The trees do not envy the grass."
Time (especially with littles in the house) so often feels relentless, the chase for the next milestone, the next holiday, the next season leads from one headlong rush to another. But we are meant to be trees, unenvious of the fleeting green of Spring's grass. Forever reflecting the seasons through our branches but never lifting our roots.