I wrote this on Seton Message Board a couple years ago... but the concept still applies. Sometimes we forget the simple beauty of our lives, and this was written to remind us of it:
I know how sometimes the seasons seem to come and go very quickly... Sometimes I myself miss their beauty. However when I look, I can see that I live in a lovely place. I felt I had to share some of the loveliness with all of you, in the only way I know how. I confess I cannot write, but what better place to share beauty than here where written beauty begins? So I'll paint for you a picture... and hope that your intelligent and critical eyes will look past my poor grammar and see what I see during special moments when God's beauty shines on my small farm:
Its getting ready to rain outside... the sky is impressive with enormous dark-gray clouds and vast expanse showing all its power. The wind is blowing the colored leaves off the trees and making the grass dance the ballet. The ground beneath the sturdy but gentle giants outside is sprinkled with red, yellow, brown, green, and other colors which are undefined. The rustling trees are beginning to show their branches in chilly nakedness and are bending their great trunks beneath the pressure of the gusts of wind. The horses look like the woolly bear caterpillars that sprinkle the ground, and the chickens are worriedly flapping their wings and settling on their roosts for the night. Excited squirrels run for cover and the goats huddle close. The rabbits crouch in their hutches and my pup hugs her pillow. Complaints can be heard both from the deep abyss of sky and the birds who inhabit it. During this whole ceremony of nature before a rain I sit just by an open window, with a book open, feeling the breeze touch my skin and blow my hair as twilight penetrates my room. Anticipating the refreshment that will soon enliven the parched and worried earth, as it has done since God created the earth and will do until the end of time.
Only for a moment, such a special moment, I saw the air white with snow. As I sat there in the warm, peering out the window, something was beginning; an advent of fantasy; an advent of wonder. It was just for a second, in which I saw, the wind blow torrents of unimaginable beauty into the breasts of clouds. In great distress, a cloud sent up a piercing cry, releasing tiny white feathers which filled the tops of trees. Somewhere in the distance, in its profound astonishment, a great light mysteriously dimmed. It was then that I heard, even in that moment, a whisper and a scream from I know not where. All in that moment, I realized it was true. Winter has begun, and it won’t be over soon.
This I can see from the blanket of pure white silk which has drapes the meadow. This I can tell from the mournful naked trees who toss and turn in the clear brisk sky. Thus I say: “It is no lie, that winter has finally come”. For proof is even clearer now, as I stride along the earth, for I tread as if on fresh clouds and smell immaculate air. Pure beauty meets my eyes as I experience the mysterious feeling of cold. Can I not hear as well, singing in the air? Ah! Now I know… there are angels there! Hence the soft snow, like a carpet of red, is a place for angel steps. And oh the smell and taste must be the pure clean air which surrounds the heavenly sanctity! Can you not feel it? Heaven here on earth! Perhaps I only dream, for this is how it seems to me when lovely winter comes.
Never overlook the beauty of the seasons!