The sun is rising through the pines.
It glows orange at first, silhouetting the tree trunks with warm light before it climbs and becomes its more familiar, pale winter self. The air is quiet today and there is no motion in the trees.
My son, who will be 13 this summer, is just beginning to make some noises upstairs as he readies for another eventful middle school day.
The light now spills from the pines to the lawn, illuminating a thousand prisms of frozen dew on the grass. Blue, green, orange, yellow, violet.
One Response
I am reading full hearted. With deepest respect and thanks to you to share this devasting, precious time of life. We all can only learn from you.🙏🏾
Warm greetings from Sri Lanka
Ven. Dhammadīpa (German Buddhist Nun)