Buttercups in Bloom

The sun rose and was sitting perfectly in between the trees. The trail was muddy and squishy. The water was flowing with swiftness and the streaming under the bridges and over the ledges. The sounds were pure. The branches were climbing out of the tree trunks that held them with such deep roots.  Branches that seemed to be reaching as high as they could to catch some of the sun's glorious rays. The evergreens will filled with a dew ever so slightly that caught the morning rays ever so gently holding a shine that lured your eye to their presence. The spider's webs were sticky. This morning it was as if everything was caught somewhere between almost here and not just yet. It was as if there was a presence of new life was just waiting to rise up from the ground and spring forth across the branches.  It was as if every step that I took this morning revealed a world that was ready to explode with a sense of transformation....and yet it simply isn't time yet for t...

Emma and I have this way of moving through crowds with ease, we simply lightly touch one another's hand reassuring us that we are both present in the movement that surrounds us. Today as we walked the streets of our Nations Capital we were holding hands not because the crowd was thick or because the movement was so strong but simply as a way to connect.  Holding hands is our way of showing affection and our way of saying that we are present with one another in the moment. This afternoon as we made our way through the Holocaust Museum I allowed her to make the journey at her own pace (which I knew would be faster than mine).  We had a specific area at the end of the journey that we knew we would be able to easily find one another and be reunited. I was not concerned. I was not bothered. I was not afraid for her. I was not fearful. I was confident. I was secure. I was pleased that my daughter was wise enough and independent enough to want to walk this journey...