Saturday, March 7

Today I looked up

and saw this tree.

A few months ago

it was almost bare.

Just branches.

No colors.

No leaves.

And yet

nothing was wrong with it.

It was simply winter.

We often forget

that we are allowed

to have winters too.

Moments when things fall.

Moments when we feel empty.

But maybe

those seasons are not endings.

Maybe they are only pauses

before something grows again.

And when it does,

sometimes we return stronger.

Sometimes even more beautiful.

— Fuerpa Slow Journal