The Babies Are Off

This morning I woke from the most beautiful dream. Infront of me was a wooded area with a stream running through it. Off to the side the water pooled close to a mossy bank. A group of small green shoots sprung up from clusters of ice and snow that hadn't melted yet. I watched from what appeared to be an observation platform and marveled how new life was suspended on ice, the water from the melting ice supporting life in a myriad of ways.

Suddenly two older ladies appeared next to me and also stood quietly watching the scene. At that moment the current seem to pick up and the tender young shoots were floating free. In my dream they moved one at a time like ballet dancers gracefully gliding downstream, moving along the current until the stream brought them to a place where their roots would take hold and they would eventually stretch out their branches.

One of these ladies observing all this with me spoke then. "The babies are off," she exclaimed. Indeed they were.

Happy Mother's Day

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