A spring storm blew in through the early morning hours. Everyone except me slept on. The roar of a wind long restrained coupled with the pounding, possessed drops left little opportunity for sleep.
And I was glad for it.
How else could I have heard fierce gusts sweeping through the branches, snapping off fragile twigs like a mischievous child? Or how else could I have heard the unmistakable crack of a tree limb, or the echoing cheeps of frightened birds? Never underestimate Mother Nature. She knows how to add layers that nourish the soil.
Her efforts were all in vain when the tree removal crew appeared. Sharp teeth ate through the branch like a ravenous wolf, shredding and pulverizing the life within. Holes, deep as wounds, formed in the circle of life.
Holes weaken the fabric, stretched like a finely woven tapestry, that covers the surface with a life-giving spirit. Vital nutrients are needed to fuel this growth. Each layer is another offering, another gift, for life.
Writing is also full of layers. We can’t grow in a void. When we learn to accept our own path and the joy it brings, we add in an additional layer. Just like the grace and resilience of the wild rose, our unique words add strength and beauty to our surroundings.
We write in a way to visualize our world for others.
There is something infinitely fulfilling in setting our thoughts in print, and by doing so, we come to understand our path, our place, if just a little bit more. Layers encompass the words, of course, but also the sight and sound, smell and touch, even the taste of the life around us. When everything works together, inspiration and illumination shine through.
The saying that writing is a solitary art is only a matter of perspective. The gurgle of a happy baby, a butterfly skimming the wildflowers, even the warm pastry cooling on the counter: they are all a part of shaping your voice. They are nourishment for your soul. They are helping you blossom and grow.