senses in winter

On a winter hike this morning – heart beating, arms tingling with chill, and mind racing with thoughts.

Just as the sun peaks out from the clouds, I stop to sit on a stump and presence my senses.  My eyes close as I take in the warmth of the sun.  Opening them again, the beauty that surrounds me sweeps in like light from a drawn curtain:

Dewdrops hang on tree branches – like sparkling jewels in the newly revealed sun
Trees, naked in winter – like veins protruding from the stilled earth
Leaves, delicate and sparse – like technicolor tissue paper dancing on a gentle breeze

Slowly, I am called back to my beating heart, the warm glow of the morning sun, and a newfound tingling on the crown of my head.

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