My street is waking up this morning. Daylight lengthens; shadows grow fainter while treetops turn golden from the rising sun. My thoughts, too, are stirring slowly, thinking about the day before me. Another mystery beckons, but I wonder…should I continue with the fifth Ned McNeil moonlight mystery or should I branch out with a new heroine? Sometimes, things become clearer only as I do them.
It’s funny, this “things become clearer only as I do them”. Must be some sort of rule. For example, I can draw a picture and think it looks all right, but after I post it, I see clearly what I should have done. Is this true with life in general? Do we see clearly only in retrospect?
The maple leaves outside my window nod. Do they know that fall is coming? Whether they do or not, I suspect they enjoy offering a green shade and welcoming birds and squirrels. When they change to a glorious golden and then fall from the trees, they have no worries about whether they might have been greener or cooler or more welcoming.
Shadows give way to sunlight and unseen things show clearly as the morning progresses. Is that the way with life? Do we see only a bit at a time, then, more and more or do some mysteries burst upon us in their completeness? Hmm. It’s something to ponder.
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