Flowers and Mountains

Some days I’d like to think I’m like a flower. Fragrant, pleasant in nature, small and low to the ground.

Somedays I’d like to think I’m like a mountain. Lofty, inspiring, rock solid, reaching upwards with peaks that brush the clouds. The very image of strength.

If all the world were filled with fields of flowers, fragrance would fill the air, the eye would be overwhelmed by color, bees would happily spend their days creating their sweet gold and oh, what we would miss.

If all the world were mountains, all strength, all unshakable, all lofty, all fortified by precious minerals, and hidden gems—oh what we would miss . . .

The strength of the mountain serves to magnify the delicate nature, the fragility, the fragrant presence of the blossom with its ability to bend and dance in the slightest breeze. The delicate nature of the flower serves to magnify all that a lofty mountain is, reaching higher to the heavens, serving as a refuge, the very picture of strength.

Mountains and flowers. Flowers and mountains. What a lovely couple they make.

What a lovely you.

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