Out along the road by the farmer's fields this morning, the
winter colors are just beginning to come to life. Now that their noisier summer
siblings have fled the scene, we can settle down into the muted beauty of the
season.
And still today, we have the resplendent miniature slugs there. Shiny black, so tiny! And if you went to look through the fields, you'll see that none of them there. They're all drawn to the road. I'm imagining for either the minerals, or some kind of living things to feed upon.
On a cold frozen day, they have all slowly retreated to other places, far beneath the ground, out of sight, to live their winter lives, in slumber and restoration.
So many lives, intricate and complex, surround us.
And still today, we have the resplendent miniature slugs there. Shiny black, so tiny! And if you went to look through the fields, you'll see that none of them there. They're all drawn to the road. I'm imagining for either the minerals, or some kind of living things to feed upon.
On a cold frozen day, they have all slowly retreated to other places, far beneath the ground, out of sight, to live their winter lives, in slumber and restoration.
So many lives, intricate and complex, surround us.
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