The world was white this morning, turning our words white as we stood outside watching sungold light lay itself uncertainly on the grass. And so cold - it felt like the light would crack into pieces when it touched the ground. I have had enough of winter.
Some days I read things like this story about what happened when people were given the opportunity to write to trees, and it offers me hope for our world. Some other days I read other stories in which politicians call wind farms offensive, and I despair. But most of the days I am like most people. I stand at the edge of the frost-covered grass and look for sun.
Imagine you were given a stranger's email address and you could tell them in quiet intimacy anything at all. I think it would be very different from connections made on social media, where callousness seems to rule. This would be a chance to open your true heart and lay a piece of it in someone else's silence. Let me tell you why I have more hopeful days than despairing ones. Because I think if we could whisper to each other the way we do to trees and angels, beauty would sound out all over the world.