We’ve found a rhythm, he and I. On beautiful Fall Saturdays, he says “let’s go fishing”, and I say “sure”. He grabs his fishing rod and tackle box, I grab my book, camera, and journal, we pack a lunch and drive to his favourite lake.
When we get there, he heads toward the dock, and I head into the woods. At some point, we meet for a shore lunch, but most of the day we enjoy our separate solitudes.
First it was a ladder of light climbing the moss on the side of a rock that pulled me away from the shore. Then it was the lichen on a decaying branch. Like a tiny white forest perched precariously on a cliff.
My curiosity drew me further into the woods.
There were mushrooms that must certainly house mythical creatures at dusk when humans have gone home.
Each a tiny tree, dwarfed in the shadows of the giant trees all around it.
There was no end to the beauty, no end to the shadows.
I knew that it wasn’t only in the woods that wonder waits in the shadows.
“There is beauty in the shadows. Things grow there that you don’t expect.”
Like mushrooms and lichens and moss, there is wonder and beauty and wholehearted life that is available to us when we open ourselves to growth in the midst of shadows.
p.s. If you want to learn more about the gifts we receive in the darkness, that will be the theme of one of the lessons in The Spiral Path: A Woman’s Journey to Herself.