Oh right, the fog. My brain fog made me forget about actual fog. Or maybe I mix those two things up. You have a point. Fog might put someone in a contemplative mood, but fog which is intermittent, does not typically induce a desire to hibernate. I hope that clears things up.
Just looking at the photos puts me in a thoughtful mood – the flow of life, where every time of growth is followed by stillness, and every lush season gives way to barrenness. Fullness fades into emptiness, and seeds hidden in the soil eventually sprout, becoming exactly what they were meant to be. The earth gives when it's ready, and when it’s not, it stays as it is.
Life feels the same – times of ease are met with hardship, health with sickness, and joy with sadness. It’s as if life quietly says, “Pay attention, because one day you’ll pass through these seasons too.”
In spring, flowers bloom without holding back, filling the air with color and fragrance. Summer brings abundance, overflowing with life. When autumn arrives, the trees let go of their leaves without regret, standing bare but calm. Then winter comes, and everything rests – quiet and still, waiting for what’s next.
There’s something to learn from this – to give freely when life is full, to grow when the time is right, and to accept stillness when it’s time to reflect. Like trees dropping their leaves, we let go of parts of ourselves as we grow older, keeping only what truly matters. One day, we return to the earth, and what we’ve planted along the way becomes our legacy.
It reminds me of the verse:
"The good land produces plants by the permission of its Lord, but the land that is bad produces little, with difficulty. This is how We explain the signs for those who are grateful." (Quran 7:58)
Nature mirrors our own lives, yet at the same time shows us – be good while you stand, be generous while you grow, and let go gracefully when the time comes. It’s not about how long we stay, but how well we live, how strong our roots are, and how much we give while we’re here. What we plant and care for will shape the story of our lives, the harvest that will remain long after we’re gone.
That's what I hate about California: We never have never a good excuse for hibernation or contemplation.
What about when the fogs rolls in?
Oh right, the fog. My brain fog made me forget about actual fog. Or maybe I mix those two things up. You have a point. Fog might put someone in a contemplative mood, but fog which is intermittent, does not typically induce a desire to hibernate. I hope that clears things up.
Just looking at the photos puts me in a thoughtful mood – the flow of life, where every time of growth is followed by stillness, and every lush season gives way to barrenness. Fullness fades into emptiness, and seeds hidden in the soil eventually sprout, becoming exactly what they were meant to be. The earth gives when it's ready, and when it’s not, it stays as it is.
Life feels the same – times of ease are met with hardship, health with sickness, and joy with sadness. It’s as if life quietly says, “Pay attention, because one day you’ll pass through these seasons too.”
In spring, flowers bloom without holding back, filling the air with color and fragrance. Summer brings abundance, overflowing with life. When autumn arrives, the trees let go of their leaves without regret, standing bare but calm. Then winter comes, and everything rests – quiet and still, waiting for what’s next.
There’s something to learn from this – to give freely when life is full, to grow when the time is right, and to accept stillness when it’s time to reflect. Like trees dropping their leaves, we let go of parts of ourselves as we grow older, keeping only what truly matters. One day, we return to the earth, and what we’ve planted along the way becomes our legacy.
It reminds me of the verse:
"The good land produces plants by the permission of its Lord, but the land that is bad produces little, with difficulty. This is how We explain the signs for those who are grateful." (Quran 7:58)
Nature mirrors our own lives, yet at the same time shows us – be good while you stand, be generous while you grow, and let go gracefully when the time comes. It’s not about how long we stay, but how well we live, how strong our roots are, and how much we give while we’re here. What we plant and care for will shape the story of our lives, the harvest that will remain long after we’re gone.
Very well put. Thank you for your beautiful words.