We’ve come to the end of The Pilgrimage, our host, Chèvrefeuille has generously guided us through this journey on the Road to Santiago. Paulo found his sword at the right moment.
[…]”…And when I think about it, I guess it is true that people always arrive at the right moment at the place where someone awaits them.” […] (Source: The Pilgrimage by Paulo Coelho)
Our host writes:
the sound of rain
on young leaves of Ivy
I bow my head
They spent the day in the sun planting seeds of various vegetables. Bent over with their straw hats, mother with her white Ralph Lauren sunglasses, the little three year old in her polka dot sundress and heart shaped sunglasses.
“Ah phew! That’s sure a lot of vegetables, Mommy!”
She beamed at her little helper, “Come, sweetheart, let’s sit in the shade. I`ll bring you a Popsicle.”
Sitting under the old maple tree, her chin in her chubby hand, staring at the garden for a long moment, she asked, “Mommy, when will the green beans start growing?”
“It will take time, sweetheart, about sixty sleeps depending on the weather.”
Obvious disappointment painted on her sun kissed face; she quickly lost interest and ran to play in the sandbox.
rose tipped buds
one moment in time
coming to flower