Friday, March 5, 2010

Faded and Foggy

Cory shot this dreamy, freeze-dried, faded rose earlier in the week.

I never knew a rose could weather a Winter so beautifully.

That's what I call aging gracefully.

Then today, we woke up to looming, pea-soup fog.

The kind that grabs hold of every limb, every stem, for dear life.

It was sunny and near 40 degrees today, but even at 1 in the afternoon, there it was, still clinging in the shadows.

I found it glimmery and full of promise.

I can handle some sparkly ice crystals when the sun hangs overhead and I'm wearing a Spring sweater. I'm tough like that.

I'm so ready for the wet, muddy, late-Winter drill.

And do you want to know why?

Here's why.

My heart skipped a beat when I drove past my favorite Amish greenhouse and saw a flash of green and pink. It was too exciting not to turn around and ask the kind gardener if I could snap a picture.

My words were, "Could I please take a picture? I drove past and saw the flowers and they made me happy."

He shrugged his shoulders, as though he really didn't understand it, and muttered "I suppose."

Honestly, how could he not get it?

I think he gets it.

He has to.

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We are headed South tomorrow for services on Monday and Tuesday. Please continue to pray for my family and for the many, many people who will be traveling in to celebrate little Kylee's life and mourn her much-too-soon departure.