Friday afternoon as we were traveling down the
a very large rainbow is seen to our right (our
It dropped down into the rolling green hills
to the north and lift up into the rolling black and gray skies.
What surprised us was the width and the vivid
colors in the reflections and refraction of light.
To our west blue skies were breaking through
the lighter clouds.
The sounds of the early mornings are the sounds
of silence. This is a peaceful time;
the sun has not come around; it is just rising
in the east. It is quiet out here;
I hear a distant movement of engines on the paved
road a half mile away.
It is a morning sound; it is there with the crickets
that hide in the earth's crevasses and the morning dove that sits on that
Birds and crickets create the sounds of this
The grass is wet. The morning is warm and comfortable.
This morning I felt like a cold blade that is
just under the sheath of leather. We know that the leather is alive and
hinted of warmth so long ago. But just under the thick hide there is a
coldness. A coldness that is felt with whoever is close by.
It is strange that I feel the warmth of the day
and see the glory of life but deep under the skin there is a cold layer
that is harsh and abrasive. How is that possible? It is one of those paradoxes,
one of those things that only the unknown knows about.
It is a constant part of me that always needs
refining. It slides in so quietly, just the opposite of a snake.
They shed their skin. I hold onto mine.
Gollum is learning the meaning of ....
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