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Write the Vision

"I will stand my watch, and set myself on the rampart and watch to see what He will say to me, and what I will answer when I am corrected.  Then the Lord answered me and said, 'Write the vision and make it plain on tablets, that he may run who reads it.'" Habakkuk 2:1-2

the drama of life in the woods

10/24/2017

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Picture
No better place to just be: The theater of a secluded peaceful forest. The actors: thick stands of white oaks, red oaks, post oaks, cedars and pine trees, among many other towering varieties, all veiling  majestic moss-covered rocky bluffs faithfully manning their watchful posts.  Look deeply. Unwind. Breathe deeply.

In early spring, on the first rainy day, the orchestra begins to tune, one whistling tree frog at a time-- the ‘spring peepers.’  The full overture will play each evening throughout the damp season.

New life begins with the explosion of creamy white dogwood blossoms scattered about heavily beneath the forest canopy. Soon, yellow, white, and deep purple wild flowers pop out of the forest undergrowth.  Gentle spring showers patter atop the emerging leaves, adding to the symphony of the woods, while occasional percussive thunders rumble through the Ozark hills.   Listen. Can you hear the peepers?  Do you see the impressionist painting of dogwood blossoms splattered about? Can you smell the rain? Can you just ‘be’?


The forest scene soon transforms to a full release of varying shades of summer green.  Dormant vines suddenly are costumed with elaborate flora.   Wild berries.  Wild grapes.  Baby acorns, walnuts and hickory nuts—the fruit growing season charges on. 

Summer heat can beat down hard, but the forest provides a cooler respite.  The treasure hunt for the seasonal wild harvests excites the soul with anticipation for the rewards of homemade blackberry cobbler in July, or muscadine grape jelly  (or even muscadine wine!) in late September.

Spring and summer, the first 2 acts of our forest play, build to the climax: Autumn.  Every tree has its own schedule for re-clothing in fiery fall colors—golden yellows, red-hot reds, and flaming oranges. Every day is a new, impressive display. The air becomes crisp and clean again.  The crunchy, leafy carpet rolls out.  Crunch, crunch, crunch.  Breathe in the chilly, refreshing breezes.  Energy.

The dénouement of our forest play—the disrobing.  As each leaf flutters to the ground, the veil withdraws.  The slow, but dramatic revealing of the hidden, harsh, and cold stony bluffs.  The forest sleeps.  The stones will rule for a season.  Rest. Admire their strength and fortitude. Explore their deep crevasses. 

A gentle snow falls in silence.  Bundle up, and climb to to the bluff peak.  Sit a while and take in the larger frosty world below and the hazy pink sunset beyond. 

The bluffs are cold, but they welcome visitors to share in their all too brief time to be seen and admired.  Winter.

This is the year-long drama that plays outside my window.  A drama that never gets old. 

Your ticket is waiting for you!  Will you come and get it?  Will you hear the calming call of the forest?  Will you answer? Come. Breathe. Be.


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  • Home
  • About
  • Portfolio
  • Contact
  • MY BLOG: Write the Vision
  • The Book!
  • FAQ's
  • My Research and Writing Process
  • More of Kay's Story