The sunrise brilliance is gradually filling the valley as the shadow of my eastern hill withdraws itself. The movement of the light and shadow always reminds me of the most graceful ballerina dancing on her toes from the western sky wings, down the trees, across the meadow, onto center stage. There was frost on all the meadows, and it, too, is yielding itself to the warmth of the direct sunshine.
The wind has calmed, a perfect day to do some spring raking, for the raggedy old leaves will smile and bow and allow themselves to be carried and deposited wherever I take them, rather than flying up with new determination in the face of fierce air. A day like today reminds me of the old tale of the springtime wind and the sun and their contest to see who could get the man to take off his coat.
'Tis a metaphor of fear and love, of course. Another example of how the generosity of love-- fierce, powerful love that is as generous and inclusive as sunshine-- can defeat fear. "Hate drew a circle that left me out, but love drew a circle that took hate in."
I'll warrant that the leaves are less likely to fly with new determination, but rather, I find them unwilling to move from their winter repose!
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