Three more inches of snow. Yesterday it was five. The day before it was also five. It’s been the wet, heavy snow - the kind that feels like concrete. Great for making a snow fort if you’re a kid, but shoveling it can kill you if your heart is bad. It’s also the kind of snow where snowshoes are mandatory for the daily dog romps and property inspections.
This is beautiful and vulnerable.
Sharing, writing…it’s all healing. Hugs my friend.
Your tears are a release, letting go of exhaustion while celebrating completion of a demanding task. I know you know this, but it doesn’t all have to be done at once. Just today I commented that one of the joys of retirement is time is your friend. I spent 20 mins scraping ice but than stopped to rest. Use time to your benefit. Whatever your health issues may be, I hope they are manageable. You’re more of a mighty oak than a droopy elm.
The way you described the snowfall on the various tree species connected with me deeply.
This is so beautiful - both your description of the winter landscape and your descriptions of your fears about the sturdiness of your body.
I have to bend and change so much since I developed chronic fatigue in 2014. But I still feel strong in my heart and soul. I don't know what kind of tree I am, but my branches have bent without breaking. (When I was younger, I compared myself to an oak tree, but I don't know enough about oak trees to know if that would be appropriate).
I feel you dear friend ❤️