Every day, you take in, from scattered places, all the meaning you can. You assemble; you gather; you bring it all together into something good and right.
I walk in the pine forest to gather the pine cones for a centerpiece.
I’m with my dear neighbor and our guide, Frankie the Husky. The air smells of pine, crisp and fresh. I carry a bag of pine cones and pine needles. I might simmer these for a fragrant kitchen and put the rest in a bowl on my table.
I think of these seasons of worship and wonder and the faithfulness of God. There’s always something to gather–the blossoms in spring, the berries in summer, the acorns in autumn, the pine cones in winter. It was a wonderful walk in the pine forest. On afternoons like these, I rejoice that walking in the woods with a neighbor and her dog, smelling the pine trees, and gathering pine cones feeds my soul as we talk about our joys and sorrows. I had once wanted so much of what I considered to be a glamorous, fast-paced, busy, and exciting living. Now, I settle down with my heart close to the earth, and I gaze at a pine cone as my neighbor pauses, holds the bag, and helps me gather.