Soft winter mists float through the Appalachian Forest as the big blue truck makes it’s way towards the lake. It’s been little more than a month since I’ve seen any signs of life other than a few scattered birds. The cold damp chill of the late Fall and early Winter gives little comfort to the melancholy soul that cries out for time outside of the box. The gray world has enveloped my mountain fully. And yet there’s a flash of color beyond the glass barrier that holds me inside. Small, freshly opened and still seeking their full glory these tiny yellow flowers are here just in time. Every December they appear to break up the mundane plane of empty fields and bare branches. They are the proverbial breath of fresh air to the swimmer. They don’t last long but they give me just enough to make it a little longer until the next awakening of nature.
Good night friends and be blessed throughout your days.
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