On body, seasons, and the theatre of being.
Today my brainwaves are having a moment. My niece sent me a photo recently, and I looked… fluffy. A full-size woman 14+, 16. Who does this, right? Is it attention-seeking to show your body, or can we simply lighten up and jest? Follow along with me on this bright October Saturday.
Fall is in the air. Much as I pose my distress about America and I have more than enough fuel for fodder the seasons of the year remain my antidote. They are evidence of the Creator’s design and artistry:
Winter, cloaked and coated, overcast in darkness, yet nurturing seeds under snow. Spring, when the sun appears, the chill recedes, and the earth opens her crevices to bloom. Summer, a season of basking and bathing in sunshine, festivals, parades, and converging people. Fall, when leaves abandon trees in rainbow goodbyes, signaling both bitterness and sweetness ahead.
