Every day, I passed this funny little raft of bark caught and cradled in a delicate net of branches. It floated there, swaying gently in the breezes that pulled the leaves in drifts from the fingers of twigs to carpet the road. 🌿
After the night of thunderstorms I fully expected to find it snatched from its perch. But there it was, serenely catching rays of sun in its bare-bellied hollow, the rough bark of its back resting in its support and reminding me: Even in the bleakest of our days, the most terrifying of storms, we are held. 🌿
If we allow it, we are held.