
I grew up in the country and as a little girl, walking though the forest I would have to touch everything. The cold rock, the rasp of the grass as it danced across my fingertips, the soft feel of moss; I loved touch. If I saw a flower blowing in the wind I’d stop to watch it because I loved the motion. It seemed to have an Emotion. I would have to wait for the moment when it looked ‘right’ before I could move on: Little did I know that it was the whispering of what I was called to do.
|