The Bridge to Peace

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I follow a Freelance Writing page on Facebook and occasionally they’ll post a writing prompt, to get those lovely creative juices flowing. The image from today is of a bridge in a beautiful snowy meadow. Here is my result:

I imagine myself on the porch of my Tiny Cabin, that I have lovingly dubbed “The Fox Den”, this is my retreat in Colorado, where I come to feel one with the earth and all the energy that surrounds us without the noise of talking, cell phones, chirping vehicles, animals, people. There is nothing here. And there is no one.

I breathe in the icy air and smile at the steam I create as I exhale, the tuft of hot air smelling of hot chocolate and fading within seconds. My nose is red and my fingertips freezing even as they hold onto my boiling hot mug. “I am going to write today” I think. “It may be nothing, it might take weeks to finish, but today is the day for Page One.”

With that I tug on my snow boots and trudge down the slope to the frozen over creek and step out onto the bridge. I know that it will only afford me a few steps, but I will take them as this bridge creaks and shudders..I am no daredevil but the thought of landing on ice or falling through the ice to stand in a foot of icy water is not one that I want to experience! But the thrill of tempting fate is hard to resist for someone as impulsive as me, so to speak. So I take my three steps, repeating a trail I have walked every morning since my arrival.

I stand there and marvel at my success again, smiling at the trees before me and all around, staring up at my tiny cabin and loving her simplicity and rich colors against the backdrop of the snow, trees and mountains. I finally did it. This cabin, this acre, this creek on this acre. All mine, alone.

This is peace.


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