Layers

The cattails by the river hold the water captive at their roots and do not let it flow down stream. The blackened weeds fell flat when their promise of green expired and now they bind together in a weaving of an uncomfortable thigh-high mass, making for difficult passage. And beyond, the reedy whips, which long ago turned brown, rattle their dried seeds in percussive rhythms driven by the wind. All herald the dying of winter.

I see layers that make promises in the landscape view of life, but these visible layers are the reflection of the deeper ones underneath. Before me, unseen, is a rich environment of earth, of deep soil, murky waters, stagnation, fermentation, synthesis and decay that create and coexist with new life.

We like to look wistfully at the “wings on a prayer” dreams as if they will fly on their own, but unless we also look at the primordial ooze as the foundation from which decay must come before growth and before flight, we will never recognize the layers that are necessary to build a richly layered life. We must work hard in the grime and the mud, seeing only brown, embedding it under skin and nail, until that day of spring when a sprout finally emerges and pushes up against the nurturing brown layers that created the ideal conditions for germination.

Whether it be a new life, or a new chapter, or simply and wonderfully a new idea, let us feed our breakthroughs with a thick layer of muddy rich stuff like hard work and perseverance. Then, let’s celebrate as our dreams take flight!

Please come back tomorrow for a new “Weed Image of the Day” and let me know which ones you like.

We and our weeds are so much more than what we first appear to be.

Unauthorized use, distribution and/or duplication of any of this material without the express written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited.