I LOVE THE BREEZE
Whether it is a warm desert wind, a cool autumn breeze, a cold winter zephyr or the brush of the breath of spring, fragrant with the scent of orange blossoms, fragrant honeysuckle and freshly cut grass.
I love watching the sunlight sparkle like sparkling gems in motion, on the windblown leaves of the trees.
Pride fills my heart when our nation’s flag waves like waves on a deep blue lake.
Under the scorching summer sun, my body receives the wandering breeze that lifts my hair and ruffles my clothes; it refreshes me as it blows softly over my body sweaty from the salt.
Cold winds, like messengers on an errand, bring the bitter clarity of a harsh winter season, and yet I embrace it. They amaze the senses as they carry the scent of crushed snow, the tart aroma of leafy pines, and the alluring scent of wood smoke.
Fall brings with it the scent of fresh cider, the spicy delight of pumpkin and sweet potato pies, ripe apples, and the smoky hint of fall emanating from burning leaves in iron barrels.
No matter the season, there will always be the wind; the breeze that carries a memory, a moment in time that has a particular meaning, a forgotten place remembered, a treasured vignette: a historical chapter in the book of your life.
We should be grateful for the Breezes that gift us with such precious moments. How still our world would be, how empty, if it weren’t for the Breeze.
The day is bright sun-infused, with the blending hot weathers of summer merging with the last eddies of spring-cooled zephyrs. The bubbly, fluffy undersides of the clouds are flat and darker than the billowy white tops.
The sun sprays liquid silver on all shiny surfaces; murmurs of streams, the slippery leaves of trees and shrubs, the chrome of vehicles parked along the streets and in a nearby park lot, on the brightly colored children’s bicycles pedaling along a path by the river, and on the shiny fur of dogs on a walk with their humans.
A breeze blows across the green lawn and the gravel path that runs alongside the tree-shaded stream; The fallen flowers of spring in a slow dance. Swallows, blackbirds and finches whisper their tales and their songs are carried by a swirling zephyr.
In sunlight and shade, everyone, young and old, experiences these magical moments that Mother Nature has created and shared with them. These are the joys that nature gives us; like a chapter in a book that fills the story with inspiration, peace, and perhaps engenders a spiritual awakening.
Nature is one of the voices of the Creator. And whether the message is soft, like a summer breeze, or grand, like a bright sunlit day, we are touched as the Creator, through nature, speaks to us.