Time is a River
“More often than not, even your best casts fail. Sometimes not catching a fish is fine. Other times, one fish caught after a duel of wits and skill is more satisfying than reeling in dozens. In the end, the quality of the experience matters far more than the quantity of fish caught.Mia stood on the front porch of the cabin with a mug of coffee in one hand and a brush in the other as she stared out at the early morning sun rising over the eastern ridge of mountains. She felt her soul expand to re...ach out and grasp the flame red dawn and bring it back inside of herself.She looked down at her painting to see the colors of that dawn stretch over the lush green of midsummer in the North Carolina mountains. She sipped her coffee and tried to imagine the same vista in the brilliant, fiery colors of autumn. Time was passing so quickly. The cool air would be here before she knew it. Yet it seemed so long ago since she’d arrived in the mountains. How little she’d known then what wild was. She looked into the woods beyond the clearing where darkness still hovered in the pale morning light.MoreLess
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