Branches leaning together in communion, rose hips marking the passage of time, budding flowers reaching for the light, cottonwood leaves losing their shape to the first frost─ in all these, I know myself more deeply. Here is my need for intimacy, here the stages of my life, here my ambitions, here my losses. Every imperfection is mine, every glorious color mine, too. Looking closely into nature connects me to myself and to that which is larger than myself. It is looking into the very heart of creation.
“I want to believe that I am looking into the white fire of a great mystery. I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing─ that the light is everything─ that it is more than the sum of each flawed blossom rising and fading. And I do.”