Wet. Gray.

It’s wet. And gray.

But there’s something about the formation of the clouds. And the shade of the green grass.

Barefoot, I step out on the deck with my phone to capture the moment. This particular gray and green is for this time alone. This morning silence is manna for this moment only.

A photo won’t harness it. Words won’t contain it.

But perhaps the practice of marking it will plant it. And one day when I’m lost, I’ll recall it. And like a map it will guide me.

Thanks so much for stopping by. I'm here early most mornings with one of my photos and a few words about life and those thin places where faith intersects.

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