This morning I sat beneath my tent made of timber and shingles and watched last night's rain gently drip off of the roof. Catching or being caught by the sun, it blazed as bright as liquid fire. Of course it is not. It is merely the remnants of last night's rain and hail mixed with thick morning dew - a metaphor on the transforming ability of morning light.
...the art, creativity, ponderings, and musings of a woman who loves life and expresses that passion in full color... This blog is a spot where I am able to place my stuff. I paint and write and hammer and sew. I create stuff that needs a home with an address in which to receive guests. If I made pies, this would be the sill right by my open kitchen window. Life is short and God is good! Receive. Explore. Enjoy!
Friday, June 10, 2011
Liquid Fire
This morning I sat beneath my tent made of timber and shingles and watched last night's rain gently drip off of the roof. Catching or being caught by the sun, it blazed as bright as liquid fire. Of course it is not. It is merely the remnants of last night's rain and hail mixed with thick morning dew - a metaphor on the transforming ability of morning light.
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