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I LOVE THE BREEZE
Whether or not it’s a scorching desert wind, a cool autumn breeze, a chilly winter zephyr, or the comb of Spring’s breath – redolent with the scent of orange blossoms, aromatic honeysuckle, and new-mown grass.
I like to see daylight sparkle like shiny gems in movement, off the windblown leaves of bushes.
Delight fills my coronary heart when our nation’s flag furls like waves upon a deep azure lake.
Below the new summer time solar, my physique welcomes the errant breeze that lifts my hair and ruffles my garments; cooling me because it blows gently over my salt-sweated physique.
Chilly winds, like messengers on an errand, carry the bitter readability of a harsh winter season, and but I embrace it. They startle the senses once they carry the scent of crushed snow, the tangy aroma of leafy pine bushes, and the beckoning scent of wooden smoke.
Autumn brings with it the fragrance of contemporary cider, the spicy delight of pumpkin and candy potato pies, ripened apples, and the smoky remembrance of fall that wafts from leaves afire in iron barrels.
Regardless of the season, there’ll all the time be the wind; the Breeze that conveys a reminiscence, a second in time that holds a selected significance, a forgotten place remembered, a cherished vignette – an historic chapter within the book of your life.
We should always be glad about the Breezes that Gift us such valuable moments. How nonetheless our world could be, how vacuous, had been it not for the Breeze.
~*~ Kathy Pippig
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NATURE 2021
The day is sun-infused sensible, with the mixed heat climes of summer time melding with the final eddies of Spring-cooled zephyrs. Effervescent, cottony fluff undersides of clouds are flat and darker than the billowy white tops.
The solar sprinkles liquid silver on all of the shiny surfaces; babbling brooks, the slick leaves on bushes and bushes, the chrome on autos parked alongside the streets and in loads on the close by park, over the brightly coloured bikes of children pedaling alongside a riverside path, and on the gleaming fur of canines on a stroll with their people.
A breeze wafts over the inexperienced lawns and the graveled path that borders the tree shaded creek; lifting Spring’s fallen blossoms in a gradual shifting dance. Swallows, blackbirds, and finch whisper their tales and their songs are carried on a swirling zephyr.
Within the daylight and shade, each particular person, younger and outdated, experiences these magic moments that Mom Nature has created for, and shared with them. These are the thrill that nature provides us; like a chapter in a book that fills the story with inspiration, peace, and maybe, begets a religious awakening.
Nature is without doubt one of the voices of The Creator. And whether or not the message is mild, as a summer time breeze, or grand, as an excellent sunlit day – we’re touched – as The Creator, by means of nature, speaks to us.
~*~ Kathy Pippig
