So how does this sprig of life do it? How does she maintain her composure while being nearly engulfed by blanketing snow? How does she maintain her tender layer of fuzz all over her needles while the snow around her attempts to overtake her?
This sprig is no more than three inches tall, yet she persists in making her way through the journey of the seasons. She doesn't seem to be concerned with how much or how fast she grows, just that she is still here and still strong as winter encroaches. She knows the cold season won't last forever and soon the warm sun will encourage her growth again...
In waiting patiently for spring to arrive, and not fully succumbing to the tendency of winter slumber, this elegant sprig of life is still growing -- in that she is learning patience.
1 comment:
I like your metaphor! o",) Very inspiring post...
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