After a snowstorm last week, I was walking by the creek and overheard a parent explaining to their child that the water is always flowing under the surface, even when it seems to be frozen solid.
As if sensing the kid’s doubtfulness, little further down the path, a thin stream of clear water was bubbling through canyons of ice and snow, reminding us of unencumbered sunny days.
Sometimes life seems like one big snowstorm, beautiful but distracting, chilling some of our greatest enthusiasms.
Friends, has it been a while since we danced around the room, or made up a song, or said a foolish, earnest thing?
As Mary Oliver asks, Are we breathing just a little, and calling it a life?
What is still flowing,
just under the surface,
ready to flow free?
And here is our latest Honeybee Book List!