winter, a dear friend

i love walking through these woods in new york.
every time i go on a walk a new thought or idea comes to mind.
on my walks are when my spirit body and soul are ignited.
when i come alive.
in these woods, i come alive.
my eyes are opened, my feet are in motion.
my ears are listening and my skin is feeling
-the wind, the branches, the cold, the warmth
feeling the earth.
i come alive in the woods, in the stream, in the dirt.
my new thought yesterday was about how it seems that all the best children’s books are about nature or are showing appreciation and love for the earth and what it holds.
i think that’s something we have forgotten about. the beauty and gift of nature.
everything on this earth is a beautiful gift for us,
but we take all we can and sell it or we take as much as we can and think it's ours.
that the earth owes us this.
but these fields and these woods, these strawberries and these mint leaves.
the birds and the deer. they’re gifts and should be so so treasured and cherished.

i try to look at each tree as i walk and each bunny that hops in front of me and appreciate it, but sometimes i forget. i forget to appreciate all that is beautiful. i take it for granted.
i get angry with winter because i forget that it is also beautiful, the changing of the seasons.
i forget that with winter also comes one of the sweetest gifts.
maple syrup.
straight from the trees i walk around every day. right now all the taps are in and the trees are giving to us. giving us their self. because of winter.
& today is the first day of spring.
& i will thank you winter for what you brought to me.
thank you for teaching me to love you.
i have never loved you more than i did this season.
thank you for teaching me to love and appreciate you
for the unexplainable beauty that comes after a snowstorm
for the warmth that comes from being tangled up in blanket after blanket when the power goes out.
thank you for the picnics and for the crisp air.
for the snow fights and the beautiful air in the morning with the sun shining on the snow-covered branches.
thank you winter for teaching me to love.
until next year, my friend.

i want to sing a song worth singing,
i’ll write an anthem worth repeating.
i want to feel the transformation,
the melody of reformation.
i hold it all more loosely, and yet somehow much more dearly ‘cause i’ve spent my whole life searching desperately, to find out that grace requires nothing, grace requires nothing of me.