The Small Gust and the Big Wind

 The small gust found its way around the bushes and the shrubs, looking for the right way to rustle them. It was a mischievous little breeze, bent on whirring and ruffling and tossing bits and pieces of the plans just a bit this way and just a bit that. 

    It was not the gusts fault that it struck in the right manner, in the proper way, such that its small movement produced a bigger one, and then one even larger, again and again until the gust became a wind and the wind a whirlwind of strength and vigor and tremendous girth. One by one the bushes and the shrubs felt their roots tear up and their leaves scatter, until, by the time the wind had lost its vastness, there was little left of any hint of foliage.

    It was never the intention of the small impish breeze to play havoc as it did. Indeed, it felt great remorse as much as shock that so small a thing could wreak so much havoc.

    And so the little gust brought the rain and then the sun until the bushes and shrubs were themselves again.

    For even though it had played only a small fault in consequences beyond its station, it felt a duty of care.

Where the Silver Linings Are...

There's a hole in a cloud where, if one is just careful enough, one can peak through and see all the silver linings there ever were. It is an awe-filled thing to see, a place where all the dashed hopes and frizzled dreams come to find the small shining thread that wraps about their wounds and shapes them into something made of magic.     One could spend a lifetime looking through this hole, marveling at all the wonders made of the strange scrapes and bruises of life.     But then, one would miss one's own life time.     And so, perhaps it is best to catch nothing more than a glimpse of silver from time to time while looking up at the clouds. Then one will not miss the silver wrappings of one's own crushed dreams and damaged hopes — for there is always enough silver for every lifetime.

The Boy's Flowers

When the boy came through the streets with his little bundles of flowers, the world looked upon him rather harshly. Perhaps it is because summer flowers are a hard sell in summertime, for they are expected. Or perhaps it was because the little boy looked a bit ragged, which often bodes harsh stares. But there was one kind old woman who took pity on the child, and offered to buy his flowers.     But where the old woman was kind, she — and all the others who had mistaken this little boy's aims for that of monetary gain — was mistaken. For he had never intended to sell his flowers. He had only wanted to offer them as a gift to any who wanted them.     And as the old woman was the only one to indicate her wants, well: she got the lot of them.

The Caretaker

The wind whipped the door shut, and the scent of fire was all smoke. There were creatures all about me, some with jagged teeth, others with green tinged skin, and many —even a plethora —with yellow eyes.      They advanced quickly, their jaws quivering, some salivating.      The caretaker's cottage lay in the middle of the forest, easily accessible by all who had need. And I was available to all of them, at every  moment, doing the duty I had long since swore to uphold; making sure that all was safe and the world well. Not an easy task, caring for  wild folk, and yet I had found that it was wild folk who carried with them the greatest gentleness, loyalty, even love.      I was finding in this very moment that my findings had all been false.      My breath quickened, and I prepared myself for the fact that their kindness had broken.      That was when I was slammed into an armchair, and told this was an intervention; for I had taken too little care of myself.      I looked up into y

A Note on Time

 Time is ticking.       It is that force, that thing that chimes whenever there is a rare moment. That keeps track of all of life. That offers a record of where the past has been.     It tells the story that leads off into the future, and reminds of things that yet need doing.     When it is seized, it slows.     And when it is passed by, it rockets forward.     Best seize it.     It will go on ticking anyway.