All is miracle

"Late February days; and now, at last, 

Might you have thought that 

Winter's woe was past; 

So fair the sky was and so soft the air." 

- William Morris

February teases us this way, with warm sunshine, the sight of new buds on the trees and tips of green emerging from the ground.  Hellebores, crocuses, and daffodils begin to bloom.

Hellebore

Crocus   

Chestnut Oak

Tri-color Sedum
Winter hasn't passed, but we're reminded of the promise that Spring will come.
The garden calls.  There's much work to be done - last season's dried stems and
foliage to be cut back, weeds to pull, birdhouses to clean.  

 

I answered the call of the garden today, and as always it was therapy.   

Now, at  the end of the day, I watch the sun set behind the trees and think about miracles.  

Since my brother was diagnosed with brain cancer earlier this month, I've thought often about miracles.  I pray for the miracle of healing for him, I pray that "the real miracle. . . .to walk on earth" be his for years to come.  And I pray that I recognize and rejoice in the miracles of this earth - in every bud and leaf and bloom, in every touch and kind word, in every song, in every sunrise and sunset.  

People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle.--Thich Nhat Hanh