Bare Bones

Last Wednesday, I was driving from work to pick up the kids at daycare. The house where they go to daycare is up and over a hill on the east side of town. At the peak of the hill, there is a wide view of the plains, houses and a small lake. On this particular day, the sun was low over the mountains and the light quite white so that it bleached the landscape, turning the brown hills a light beige and the bare trees white. Houses faded into the background and the white trees, like bare bones, contrasted against dark gray storm clouds that filled the eastern sky. Rather than desolate or hinting at impending storms, the landscape was magnificent and hopeful.

I feel somewhat that I am in such a place, able to enjoy the beauty of the bare bones of life, closer to the bare bones of myself (also assured that there are many layers to go). Rather than feeling naked or stripped, I feel the restoration of winter and the promise of spring colors to come. I might lay upon such words as openness, forgiveness, blessedness, adventure, and a sense of freedom.