The raindrops on my window have disappeared. The grass is still brown. I can still see the lake through the barren trees, yet I know things are happening I cannot see which will hasten spring’s arrival. I know the sun has risen, though it isn’t visible in the sky. I know the moon will rise as the sun sets this evening. For all this, I give thanks.
I remember another rainy day a year ago when a red fox ran across the expanse of greening grass to hide from the thunder and downpour in the bushes of a neighbor’s condo. I remember when each of my children were born and how I felt when I first held them. I remember my first kiss and the dreams that followed. I remember standing on a rough wooden bridge over a creek and imagining a different future from reality. For all this, I give thanks.
My fingers tap the keys and words form. A book is written. A blog is posted. My fingers pick up a colored pencil and life emerges on a black and white page. My fingers stroke a purring cat and my heart is happy. For all this, I give thanks.
Carol Ann Erhardt, Author 