Recognition

Good morning, and only one week between posts- Me?  Somewhat organized?  I'm really not...although I do trust my internal orneriness, stamina and damned stubbornness in getting done what needs to be done.  Lists would be easier, I do keep those but they're pretty jumbled up too.  I get hard to live with when I cross things off the list, and the Big Fish just hums as he is apt to do when he knows it's far better to hum than to cross my pluckiness.  Imagine a broody hen with menopause... afraid of nothing!  Bound and determined!  Incorruptible!  Emblazoned!...

... as the leaves dripping with color that tastes like wine to the eyes!  Vivid is the ending of the day when the full moon shines her face upon the sun's last efforts-  Does she long to share the sky with the sun, a romantic time for two to hold sway there in the last and full light adorned below by rapturous color?  And I wonder more and said out loud on a rocky romantic road-trip with the fella,

"I understand the logic behind the science of leaves falling, season's changing, the temperature fluctuating and the sun and moon phases...but I do not understand, why such beauty that goes along with it?  I mean, what would the point be?  As long as those seasons change and unfold, change and unfold- what could possibly be the logic behind making it more?!

Why not garble it all up in a cement mixer, like man does when he lays a foundation- rocks and dust, water and motion, grey is the outcome and yet, there lies a strong foundation after it dries...
But I must question that logic further when I wonder- what if love was part of that man made mixture?  Would the rocks not be then, the most beautiful to be found?  Would the dust blend beautifully with but never totally saturating the rocks?  And wouldn't that foundation touch more people as they strolled by it,  I mean really touch them in such a way that would bring about a harmony of hearts, echoing each others joy at such a marvelous sight?!

And I can't help but wonder then, if each would recognize in the other a similar spark of adoration for what is created with love?...."

"Take the picture...." he hums.

And so I do.