April 8 – Daily Feast
It seems only yesterday when the first cold wind blew in and laid flat the wild rose and turned the canes gray. Leaves turned and dropped. Snows fell and drifted. Winter threatened to last forever. But it didn’t. Spring runs in and out like a child opening and slamming a door just to irritate us. The birds are flirting and meadows abound with baby calves in their first days. It is a time of change – not only in nature but in us. We enjoy that breaking point between late winter and early spring. In our mind’s eye we know where the wild phlox will spread its fragrance and the oxeye daisies will crowd the narrow path. It is with the same eye that we see ourselves blooming with health and prospering beyond our dreams. Only those who walk under a cloud miss the joy of this time, the open meadows and greening hills.
~ Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam, where the deer and the antelope play….Where seldom is heard a discouraging word and the skies are not cloudy all day. ~
ANONYMOUS
‘A Cherokee Feast of Days’, by Joyce Sequichie Hifler
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