What can I say about nature? I walk outside to become acquainted with the night sky. The clouds are lazy gray. They're scattered with splotches of dark, irregular-shaped pillows.
The air is thick with the smell of rain. The night hovers as a blanket over a vast meadow. The glow of the moon walks across the sky toward secret places. I wonder where it sits among the waking hours just before first light.
I wonder where God places the next day's paintings.
How many times I have wished to become a sleeping flower in my grandmother's garden. I lost count long ago.
She was as gentle as the summer rain. Her tulips always had a smile for her... as she had for me.
She was akin to nature, it seemed....