It has snowed 3 times in the past week--all before Thanksgiving. I keep thinking, Oh, it will melt, but temperatures here are dropping into the teens. The ground will freeze, and that's the definite end of gardening season.
Oh, the projects left undone. Things not put away. Stalks and stems not cut down. Bulbs not planted. Sigh.
We thought we had a future, but the future turns out differently than we expected. The future was a figment of our imagination. And now we are disappointed that reality doesn't match imagination?
The future is always in the imagination. The future is only in the imagination.
We live and breathe in the present moment, and every new moment is a surprise.
Wednesday, November 21, 2018
Posted by Cheryl Wilfong at 11:09 AM
Labels: bulbs, freeze, future, imagination, melt, present, reality, snow, temperature
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