“Fall teaches us that letting go is not the fall, but the space for something unseen to begin.”
This week unfolded like a painting of new tones, branches cracking, geese lifting into the fog, chickadees daring to trust the hand awaiting with wonder. Silence, though not empty, was alive, a shifting presence carrying both warning and wonder.
The cove reminded us that even in stillness, transformation is never far. Leaves fall, trees splinter, shadows stretch, but in the letting go, something is always preparing to begin again.
-Kerri-Elizabeth- Next week, the fog will arrive, and with it, shapes that will not stay hidden. What will you see in the fog?
“Every step taken in uncertainty teaches the body how to listen.”
The path curled along the lake’s edge, shadowed by trees that leaned too close. Each breeze seemed to carry a question.
Which one will fall next?
Yet along that unease came another sound, soft, delicate, a flutter that carried no threat. Chickadees darted through the air, their tiny wings quick as whispers. One landed nearby, black cap gleaming, eyes alert yet curious. It had learned the rhythm of hands, the offering of nuts, the trust of presence.
The unease of walking beneath breaking branches met the wonder of a bird that dared to come close enough to touch. Nature carried both at once, fear and comfort, uncertainty and grace. And in that balance, the path continued.
There is no promise of what is next, only the awarness that what is next, is coming.
-Kerri-Elizabeth- Tomorrow, the path will blur, what waits at its end may not be seen until the fog reveals it.
“One crack in the silence can change the rhythm of everything.”
The forest did not fall all at once. It whispered first, dry branches rattling like bones against each other, before a single splinter cut through the air. The pause between splinter and collapse was long enough to hold an entire world of wonder, what direction, what cost, what unknown was about to unfold.
When the fall came, it thundered against the earth, stirring the geese from the shoreline. Their wings beat heavy against the fog as if carrying a message, move, shift, find new ground before the next branch decides.
Even the lake absorbed the sound, sending rings of movement outward, carrying the echo into places unseen. It was not destruction. It was instruction. A reminder that endings are also beginnings, and that the weight of silence is never empty, it is waiting for its next note.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the echo will return in another form, one carried on wings.
“Even in the stillness, the storm learns to whisper its secrets through the trees.
The cove held its breath, a canvas washed in muted tones of gray and gold. Every ripple on the lake mirrored the sky’s hesitation, as if water and air had made a silent pact not to disturb what was shifting beneath.
Then came the sound, sharp, brittle, alive. The crack of wood surrendering after months of summer dryness. A tree gave way, carving its own path with no regard for what it might strike. The silence before and after was as loud as the fall itself.
Somewhere between the rush of the wind and the echo of impact, time stretched thin. It was no longer about a tree, or even the danger of where it landed. It was about the reminder that nothing stands forever untouched. Even what feels steady can be remade in a single breath of change.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, silence will shift again, not by breaking, but by carrying a voice that does not belong to the wind.
I’m Daisy Love, I’m small and I’m the most loyal to my Mom. Although I love few and never many I like to watch many from afar and and I’m slowly learning to go where many have been and walk in crowds with confidence.
Sometimes my mom carry’s me because let’s face it, I need a little height now and then.
Some people tease me and think I’m acting like a tough one when I bark at them coming near. Let me tell you what’s really happening.
People move fast, going slow and meeting me where I’m at isn’t usually an instant reaction. I can see in people eyes they expect me to meet them where their at or their QUICK reaction is to call me unkind names and decide they don’t like me.
You know, “ankle biter”, etc.
Well recently my mom had an epiphany , she has an inner chihuahua, you see I have been teaching her like I try to teach others more about themselves and for some reason , slowing down enough to understand hasn’t been an easy one to teach. Humans expect and assume quickly usually and understand later.
That’s why they always say”if I knew now what I knew then” ,well slowing down would have taught you sooner. Just an observation from a little teacher.
So this lesson, let me get to the point…. My mom and her newly understood “inner chihuahua”… when something or someone moves too quick she immediately goes into fight or flight, guess which one kicks in first?
Which one is it for you?
When I showed her that she has the power to change her reaction, she would see more, feel more and understand more. Its not the chihuahua that’s scaring you, it’s your own reaction that scares you, fear is there to protect you, and teach you. (If your in control of your own state) however this is the catch.
Is your reaction a protection alert , or is it unresolved past reactions or programmed reactions holding you back from growth?
You see fear is usually planted and humans water there fear more then their plants.
Its just an observation, from your, “ inner chihuahua “ , you see, I chose my owner and she chose to see her reflection in me.
Slow down and meet me where I am, that’s where you will see me and possible YOU too!
SONSHINE FOR YOU 