Updated: Oct 26, 2019
24 October 2019
I truly believe God blessed humans when He gave us the ability to write. (For one thing, had He not done that, our faith would look completely differently I imagine, what with no physical Bible--but that’s a whole other topic.) Point being, so many individuals would lose perhaps their only medium of expressing that which is most intimate--their thoughts. I, for one, would be lost without writing, as I lack the artistic ability to express that inner dialogue otherwise.
Throughout my life, writing has served many purposes--the most typical being a journal to pour out my heart and anxious mind (--particularly when the thought spirals swirls around like a hurricane in my head, only draining out onto pages). Every once in a while, though, words let me give form to the little joys and intricacies of the world that I observe. It’s like taking a voyage into my mind’s eye, and trying to solve the riddle of which words and images will best express my perception. Finally, I can open up the door and welcome my readers into this world so we can look on and wonder and question and comfort together.
Let us begin, shall we?
It is a lovely Thursday afternoon in Eugene. The weather is bright and sunny… at least it is right now, we’ll check back on it in about an hour. Autumn is in full bloom and is simply magical! Protected from the bitter cold by the latter half of a warm cup of Earl Grey, I sit in the courtyard-- the perfect spot in which to bear witness to something so insignificant yet so truly extraordinary. Through an iron gateway outlined in crimson brick arches, golden-ochre leaves fall from a large tree. Gently, they float downwards in a soothing rhythmic motion, till at last they disappear amidst their thousand cinnamon-orange colored brothers. Hardly noticed, they settle into their final resting place. Waiting, unnoticed, until one by one they they crackle underneath the feet of every passerby. At my feet, a small chickadee bounces through the mossy concrete courtyard. I’m not sure exactly what it is he’s searching for, but I like to assume that perhaps we hold this one common opinion-- it’s certainly better than snowfall.