Mother Earth is singing her song to me this winter, bringing me her beautiful paintings in the stormy sky. What a gift to any photographer to live under a morning sky like these.

It seems that there is a new storm every other day, some of them  angry and disruptive, and others, like the one last night, polite and inoffensive.

All of the storms seem to clear in the morning, all of them  bring beautiful skies and tableaus, each one of them a message from our mother, the earth.

It is, for me, the tableau that never fades or is taken for granted. Red sitting the sheep, keeping watch, Maria shoveling manure from the barn to the manure pile, and above us, another Dawn Of Glory.

I dug out one of my favorite Rumi poems, and wanted to share it:

“The dawn of Glory has come spreading its light

and the bird of my soul bursts with song

In the radiant sun the dust of my body settles

and the Beloved comes to sit at my side.

Touched by His grace my forlorn heart 

stirs joyously and begins to dance.

The one whose back has been bent

by the journey springs back to life.

The heart is the light of the word

and the soul its brilliance.

One sets the beat for the other to dance.”

— Rumi