Some days seem like there is no dawn.  The dark barely slinks back and though I sit still on a hill watching, it is only when I shift my gaze from the east that I realize the colors are slowly returning to the green hill.  It is like a reluctant day.

Reminds me of me–slow to roll out of bed, deep sigh to leave the cozy comforter, a bit achy in the too-heavy bones, mind numb and stumbling.

My routine these days, however, connects me in such a modern way with you.  With whoever is out there, with friends and family in email conversations.  It is good and I am grateful to have these clicking keys reveal my little snippets of the heart.  My goal is to let the Lady speak through me, to keep my flute clear and open for words of Her grace to come through.

It is not me, it is the Blessed Breeze that makes the trees bend and bow.  It is the waves on the lake that catch the geese as they plow to sit.  She is the cloud cover that plays hide and seek with my life, laughing out loud when I stand in the middle of my day and tearfully cry out “Olly olly oxen free!  Come out Dear One wherever You are!”