Life is what happens when we’re busy living but when we slow down…ahh, we open ourselves to the magic and mystery that is older than time. The magic and mystery that is God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit. That time before everything else, when His creation was new, before we humans had begun to rid ourselves of that which we did not understand.
From our back porch the, almost, full moon rises over the wild cherry tree. You can see the fog rolling across the mountains, drifting into the valley, wafting across the pastures. The glint on the right hand side is from the celler roof as the moon light floods to my eye.
Here, from the sun room porch, the walnut tree in the foreground with the moon starting her glide across the valley and sky; the mountains show the fog beginning her descent. This is a magical time of night, full of sounds and whispers of small animals and the horses in the pasture next to the sun porch snuffling their pleasure at being a part of it all. We’re not sure but we think we heard faeries floating and sighing on the breeze as the fog rolled over the mountain. Certainly we didn’t hear the nightingale nor the coyotes; this time is far too mystical and the animals and birds know not to disturb the mystery. All hold their breath as if waiting for the Son to whisper, “this is my Father’s creation and all is well.”
Blessings ~ fog ~ night ~ moon light ~ breeze ~ whispers ~ mystery ~