It was the bittersweet taste of black raspberries on a barn wood bench out back; It was the waning sun and the cerulean sky and the up-turned tail of the confident wren; It was Nature: the sight, the smell, the sound, the touch and the taste that knit together the wayward threads that threatened to unravel my dreams. It was Nature and the tiniest, delicate fruit that restored peace and anchored my heart.
Very lovely. Very simple. Very true.
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