Years ago, it began to grow along the steep hillside overlooking the valley. As a sapling, it weathered the wind that buffeted it, struggled until it reached a size that its roots ran strong and deep.
How it managed to not be decimated by the deer passing through, it wasn't quite sure. But it made it, alone and lone, firm, and strong.
May the artwork take both you and the people to whom you send the cards to a place of welcoming, warmth, and home, and may you feel as if you could run about the yard of this house and play with the joy and freedom of a child.
May the artwork take both you and the people to whom you send the cards to a place of summer joy, one in which the simple, quiet things in life are celebrated and honored.
Well, why not believe the impossible, reach for the improbable? We do it all the time when we listen to the news readers and accept what they say as true.
Better to put that energy into determining what it is we want to achieve, and go about achieving it.
Out in the middle of nowhere is actually somewhere: it's a landscape surrounded by space, and within that space one can walk around outside in one's bathrobe -- or not even that if you please -- and not be seen by the neighbors.
You don't hear their TV or music. No loud cars, or sirens. No shouting, flashing lights, LED advertisements in your face.
May the artwork bring to both you and the person to whom you send the card a moment of calmness and peace, a celebration of tranquility that we enjoy when we take time out to enjoy the many treasures in our lives.
We share our secrets and our thoughts with those who hold them gently in their hands and securely in their hearts.
These people are few. Even social butterflies who boast of being "people persons" with lots and lots of friends would be wise to watch with whom they share their innermost introspections.
You can't gulp down scalding hot coffee -- no matter how much of a hurry you're in, you have to either slowly sip and savor, or set the cup aside until it cools down.
Morning coffee is a welcoming opportunity to slowly sip and savor morning itself, to give ourselves a moment -- brief or prolonged -- to wake up, along with the day, calmly.
Of course there were things to do; there always were, and some of them could even be listed in the "important" column.
But at the moment, nothing seemed more important than standing in the yard, overlooking the bay filled with sailboats, and just letting one's mind glide from one thought to another, as if it too were sailing on the bay.
Oh, she knew perfectly well that she was supposed to be serious, concerned, keeping up on the news of the day, fearful of the Next Big Thing, savvy and cool, yet at the same time perturbed and troubled over . . . everything.
When you care about someone, you watch out for them. And while during our teen years we may not have wished to be seen in the presence of our parents, deep down there was a security in knowing they were there.
Just . . . out of sight.
Mothers, fathers, parents -- they fuss because they care.
It was a good day, a quiet day, and it passed pleasantly out on the water as one literally watched the world go by.
Or more accurately, the world stayed in one place as you sailed by it.
And now, as evening approaches, it's time to think about coming back to shore, but then again, there's really no hurry about that. There's no hurry about a lot of things . . .
Mountains are majestic and mighty and timeless. When we stand before them we get a sense of our smallness and mortality, and that isn't such a bad thing.
May the artwork take you to a place of a grandeur that is truly noble because it is resplendent with a stateliness that deserves the name.