When seated in the country cemetery I described in an April post, small strange clouds floated above, like spirits visiting from another realm.
A crazy concept you say? Perhaps, but it was just one of those moments–like people say about a hilarious experience that falls flat with only mere words to describe it – you simply “had to be there” to believe it.
Each season holds its special experiences. Spring and fall seem the most spiritual to me.
October is another month when I begin to feel a closer presence of those who have passed on. But in a positive way. Nothing to do with skeletons and scary seances. The feeling comes to me as I see trees at dusk silhouetted in the sunset, feel the heartbeat of the earth, sense the imprint of all who have walked upon it.
A peek outside the window shows snow showers. At first I’m dismayed to see that this April day is a continuation of the unseasonable weather we’ve endured nearly every day since Mother Nature played her April Fool’s joke on Easter Sunday last week.
But a peek at the weather service forecast shows seventy for Friday. It looks like spring may arrive in a
rush this weekend. Suddenly I’m appreciating the beauty of the snow as I see the caps on the dried heads of teasel standing in the fields. Today’s flakes doesn’t seem to be sticking on the roads. They’ve even melted on my windshield, though the car hasn’t been driven since yesterday. It’s lovely fluff is standing tall and light upon rooftops, trees, and vegetation.
I now look out wistfully upon the white landscape we likely won’t see for at least six months, suddenly sad to see it go. My attitude may change however, should next week’s forecast call for another extreme cold snap.
Like the weather, my outlook may be fickle.
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