I wake to the Morning Glories, blue in mood, heads down, slowly opening to honor those who suffer in Norway.
I wake to the Roses lamenting, their soft velvety pedals falling to the garden floor, paying homage to those who have died there.
I take to the Redwood trees standing stoic in silence, their branches praying in the breeze.
Flowers remind me of a gentle thing, man can not fight.
Nature’s gentle ways ground me, as words fall short today on this easeful Sunday in Sonoma, knowing that is not the case for many in Norway, for many in this world.
Words fall short.