I sit beneath a canopy of green trees, in a campground outside Lancaster, Pennsylvania. It’s my last day here, and for a week I have savored the experience of living beneath these trees. It’s been my private little tree house, and it’s restored my soul after a rough couple of months.
This one, directly in front of my chair, has been my faithful companion. I watch as the morning sun lights up the leaves, branch by branch. I notice the little chipmunks scurrying up and down its trunk; whether they are playing or fighting, I cannot tell.
I move on today, to another place, where they may or may not have trees as beautiful as these. I am enjoying the moment, then, as I write this, looking up at the cathedral over my head, squinting at the sun breaking through the gaps, and wishing I could stay just a little longer.
The meaning of a word — to me — is not as exact as the meaning of a color. Colors and shapes make a more definite statement than words.
Georgia O’Keeffe
Thank you! It feels good to be moving again, makes me happy.
Warm thoughts and vibes to you on the next part of your journey.