Morning light strikes warmth across the fields. The dew rises, creating a fog which feeds the clouds as the day begins. We rise as well, as much a part of this system as anything else, an intimate companion to it all; one expression of many on this remarkable rock.
And so the grasses awake, the birds swoop and soar, we strive, scheme and hunt, all under one glorious impulse called Life.
As easy and as hard as it is and will always be. Myth tells of the Phoenix that falls so it can rise again, from ashes to form, like darkness to light. It’s in everything from fog to cloud, and cloud to rain, old suns explode and reform again. Earths plates subduct and volcanoes spew, life, death, old and new.