Snapshots
I watched a soft breeze dancing with the autumn leaves, like butterflies in their descent, wings in gentle motion free falling to the earth a canopy of color lying on the ground. Winds of change in this grand procession, you can’t hold back the hand of time. Even if I could, I never would. I will enjoy this seasonal sonata drinking deeply of the cool morning air. Shafts of sunlight pierce early morning’s wakening, highlighting trees and leaves, profuse shades of crimson, yellow, orange, and gold. There are whispers of winter, preparations to complete, warm fires, a canopy of white, tranquility wrapped in colds icy grip.
Stillness resides like the comfort of a warm blanket on a chilly night, the solace of silence my companion as thoughts recede and a dreamy sleep captures my mind. As I rest I hear the subtle sounds of Aspens quaking, the rhythm of the river, and wind blowing in the pines. Early snow is on the mountain peaks and I capture this snapshot if only in my sleep. Not on the internet, digitally reproduced, or hard copies glued to seldom used photo albums, pictures taken on my phone, once looked at stored in the cloud rarely retrieved existing somewhere like a rolling stone. On the contrare these snapshots are the resplendent brilliance of Autumn, the solace and comfort of Winter, bouquets on Spring days, and the warmth and abundance of Summer, everyone and everything that I hold dear. Mine forever. You cannot take them from me, the old story you never really know what you’ve lost until it’s gone.
These are snapshots in my mind, private, personal, and known only to me. They are not lost to fire or flood, a electronic glitz, no need to back up the hard drive. But like all pictures they may fade over time. I still remember at one time you were once gentle on my mind. We are imperfect souls, soldiers more than just pilgrims in a struggle for life. In an ever-changing landscape the angel of death will extract his due. Maybe we chose when we die and how it will happen, having a part in that decision. Until then we have a life to live, don’t discount the day. More than just a speck of dust in the cloudy Milky Way, the immensity of the night sky the cosmos on display.
In this present world light is often obscured by darkness, snapshots remain that don’t conceal trouble, hurt, and pain. On a restless night, sleep escaping, snapshots flood my mind, the good, bad, and ugly, inescapable I seek a truce. I cannot elude the past, I must make peace, unshackled from the scaffolding of my life. We often stumble, sometimes fall, but pleasant snapshots come to comfort our mind, scenes from this life and of another time. Snapshots, fleeting memories of the dawn…wide expanses…vivid trances…the Great I Am, Divinity on display.
Our path is free to walk, backroads and dirt roads, snapshots, forever a peaceful easy feeling on my mind. As much as possible discard the bad, not focusing there. Embrace what is beautiful, fields of gold among the fields of barley. Remember the sunny days and cold clear nights so full of stars the angels have to direct traffic to prevent them from colliding in heaven. The seasons of our lives, leaves escaping the trees with rays of golden sunlight silently dancing as they gather on the ground. The geese fly overhead honking in their pointed arrow leapfrog formation, hummers taking transport in their fleecy down, bidding farewell to the lazy crazy days of summer. Dust off the sun and moon your baskets full, embracing the seasons of your life.
Read this in the first person for which it was intended. The authors…….
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