dancing with the daisies

dancing with daisies

I can almost feel the heat, the buzzing of the bees and the butterflies flitting about on the breeze.  There I am, book beside me along with my handsome prince, the promise of a picnic in the bag a few feet away (there might even be a bottle of chilled white chilean wine).  We’re planning a spell away from all distractions.  Besides our books, his camera, my phone, his notebook, oh! and my glasses (necessary for reading) we are all alone with our flowers and our blue sky against the stone strewn landscape  and our sweet selves.   Our senses are buzzing, just like the bees, and tingling with the smells and sights surrounding us.  It is bliss.

Tarry a while! What’s the hurry?  The warmth and the breeze linger on.  That picnic awaits and the wine too.  The smell of  flowers fills one’s nostrils, the blue of the sky delights the heart.    This is an ancient place, the feel is not of this world but of another  in the distant past.  Each boulder, and there are many, reminds one of past influences on our planet; ice fields receding, leaving behind this debris.  What unimaginable force there must have been to leave behind such colossal rocks.  How small one can feel amidst all this greatness and magnitude!!!  And then, just as you’re feeling quite insignificant a little gentian appears out of nowhere, delicate blue, fragile looking but strong, and helps you see the strength in yourself.  It’s there dancing among the daisies and the orchids and the buttercups and all the other flowers.  So let’s dance with them, you and I, and have that bottle of wine.



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