Manna Meditations, Day 27 I drive out to a solitary place, where the forest gives way to open fields. When I park the car at an overlook, the only sound is the wind tearing around the car, trying to find a way into my little shell of warm air. I have my big camera with […]
Tag: contemplative
lean, elegant lines in an unlikely place …
Manna Meditations, Day 26 💛
when the cold’s no match for the light …
Manna Meditations, Day 24 Wishing you warmth and sun in the deepest cold, friends … 💛
four ways to watch the sunset in the city …
Manna Meditations, Day 21 💛
doubt
Yesterday: Gray sky. Cold wind. I wander down by the river, wondering (why do I still wonder?) whether I will find the Manna. Whether it will be there for me, in this brief little window I have to go looking for it. Something leads me, then, to a low place down by the water’s edge […]
… perhaps you’ve passed the secret twice, while reading this sentence …
I’m beginning to understand that the Magic was there along… … That even in the darkest seasons, I walked right over it a dozen times a day: And still it waited, subtle as a whisper, as if it was made for me to find it: I happen to think it was made for you, too. […]
three figures in the wilderness…
Yahweh appeared to him by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat in the tent door in the heat of the day. He lifted up his eyes and looked, and saw that three men stood opposite him. When he saw them, he ran to meet them from the tent door… […]
two ways to read it …
The Snow sings a song you can only hear in silence. It speaks to those who stand perfectly still, a primal music drumming in their chests: Be still. Be still. Be still. Be still … I think we both know I’m not really talking about snow. ❤
one for the weary …
(…because we’re all still children sometimes … frenzied… exhausted… in stubborn rebellion against that old human need for Rest…) Blown snow. White, not yet wet — sifted sugar. Airspun, storm-sung: it beds down gentle, tucks the lawn in tight, settling over the branches like a soft hand on a forearm: Hush… Rest now. Just be. […]
ASHLEY WILSON FELLERS 