It’s a jewel of a morning.
Coffee in hand, I speak.
“Everything doesn’t have to be fixed. Some things can stay broken, not worth the glue of understanding.”
“You’re wrong.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve rehashed the emotions, only to end at the same place. Can’t I leave it in the dust?”
“The dust is on your feet.”
I enjoy the silence after her poetic words.
“Pan around where you are.”
My phone passes over the old tree stump. She will use this.
“That stump is decaying, uglier and uglier.”
“I don’t see it anymore.”
“But your soul sees it.”

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson
This meaningful conversation is brought to you by Rochelle Wisoff’s Friday Fictioneers photo challenge. That’s one ugly tree stump, don’t you think? But what a magnificent tree it must have been (though that’s not the metaphor I applied in these 100 words). I’m a tree lover, hugger, kisser. Who in their right mind can’t appreciate the years of endurance and growth that an old tree has seen?
Okay, so that was judgmental on those who do not connect with natural things, but that’s how passionate I am about trees.
Today’s tale leaves an open door for whichever camp you’re in – deal with the dirt or sweep it far, far away.
Today I’m inclined to say, ‘move on’ , work with what you’re left with and live the best life, to hell with the past. I mean that literally. I may get tripped up by it now and then, but I will not let it determine the path I take today.
Wishing you a day of peace and vision for the future. Best, Clare

