Slipping in my faith until I fall
His gaze drifted upward again, then outward, looking to acorns nestled near the roots, a fallen branch heavy with red-gold leaves, a cluster of late berries clinging stubbornly to a thorned stem. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be big,”he wondered aloud, “maybe it just has to mean something.” After all, harvest wasn’t only crops. It was effort and preparation, gratitude for what had grown.
He exhaled slowly through pursed lips, eyebrows finding his hairline and wrinkling his forehead. The young Olson turned in a circle, hand just then leaving hers, lifting his arms slightly to invite Nova into his idea. “We could gather what the forest’s already given. The brightest leaves. The last berries. The strongest acorns.” His voice steadied as the idea formed. “Show we notice what’s changing. Show we’re thankful before it’s gone. What do you think?” He glanced at Nova. ”And yo can decorate any way you;d like.”
He exhaled slowly through pursed lips, eyebrows finding his hairline and wrinkling his forehead. The young Olson turned in a circle, hand just then leaving hers, lifting his arms slightly to invite Nova into his idea. “We could gather what the forest’s already given. The brightest leaves. The last berries. The strongest acorns.” His voice steadied as the idea formed. “Show we notice what’s changing. Show we’re thankful before it’s gone. What do you think?” He glanced at Nova. ”And yo can decorate any way you;d like.”
Marcus
He never returned that call
