I stepped outside of the caravan. Mother Nature was waking up ever so slowly, taking her time rousing from a deep slumber. Not a wisp of breeze. Not a puff of cloud. The rising sun laid its lukewarm fingers on the earth, and the earth responded with thousands of sparkling points of light.
Dew drops, frozen in the depth of night, are now twinkling prisms of coloured light. They melt to liquid sunshine, dripping, pooling to form trickling streams hidden in the undergrowth. Shards of glass dissolve. Tall grasses droop under the weight of glistening icicles, and the fallen autumn leaves are no longer red, but frosty white.
Earth’s creatures stir, turning heads to face the sun, soaking up its vitality.
Ribbons of fog float beneath the mountains, drifting to the rhythm of Mother Nature’s breath. And steam wafts from the swamps and dams, dissipating, evaporating, until mirrors reveal themselves in roadside paddocks.
Mother Earth shudders, shaking the moisture from her back, offering her animals and plants a drink of the purest water, and gets on with her day.
So frozen is the lawn, that my footsteps don’t disturb the crisp white sheet I walk upon. A gleaming, twinkling wonderland of white and muted shades of Earth’s clothes greet me at every turn in the road.
Magical moment after breathtaking moment. Gratitude consumes me. I feel so blessed to experience and appreciate the wonder of nature’s artistry.