Decisions, decisions, decisions

In our family, I’m known to explain things—to attempt to understand why things are as they are, and share the revelation with others. Not that what I end up with is "right"—there are many ends, once you start down a road. But, as much for myself as for others, I am rewarded with a settled feeling when I make sense of this world…an assurance that, whatever the issue, there will be resolution. Once resolved, set aside.
Most often, I find my understanding has come from nature--perhaps because I look for it there, perhaps because nature willingly shares it.

I can recall, one spring, watching a nesting robin repeatedly lay strands of grass against a small branch outside my window. For days she brought piece after piece—yet, none held fast. I worried she would continue without end—so long she fussed at that spot. But, weeks later, I found her “happily” nested in the adjacent bush. How long do you keep at something that isn’t working? Long enough to be able to say you’ve given it your best effort—not so long as it prevents you from getting on with the egg-laying of life.
Last February’s ice storm glazed the same tree—the branch heavy with its coating of ice, fell. Sometimes our choices are taken away.

Right now, I’m choosing paint.
A lover of color, I’ve decided upon brown.
The absence of color can be beautiful, too.

Yarrow

Goldenrod