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Love Is A Gift For All Seasons

The silvern days of summer have come at last to visit us. These are the soft, serene, windless days of summer. These are the days that begin with dew-sparkled mornings and gentle imperceptible breezes and end with starry, dreamy, moonlit nights.

This morning could be any morning from any of the many summer mornings that I have experienced and long forgotten. It could be but it is not. This morning is today and it is a gift I will treasure at least for today.

Today is the summer day that has been too long absent from my life. Today is the kind of day I'll remember when blinding snow stings my face and challenges my spirit. Today is the kind of day for which I'll yearn when summer has passed into the blurry coils of summers past - or into that misty, forlorn and forgotten realm of shadowy memory.

Today the lovely summer morning brings the hues of Heaven. The ever-elusive horizon is multi-hued in colors splendidly subtle, a palette blended perfectly into the crystalline-blue raiment of the sweet summer sky.

This morning with it brings many promises; it comforts me with its peace.

All seems right with the world.

Those bitter, windy, wet, slushy days when I trudged through ice and snow with freezing feet and frozen fingers seem now to be surreal fabrications of some cruel alien world - a test of my strength and resolve. Winter was a time that now seems so long ago that it can only temporally exist on the fringes of the mind, in dark, shadowy, and ephemeral wisps of fragile and imperfect memories.

Yet, though it seems so long ago, experience teaches me that it will all too soon be here again. Nature does not let us linger long in one place. The river of life moves swiftly forward and I cannot waste time looking back at the water over which I've already traveled.

I am warm and peaceful in the summer sun and for this moment I will taste it and revel in it so that someday I can remember it.

Seasons come and seasons go and though I love them all, today summer reigns with its warm and surreal beauty. Seasons cannot last - the come and go and come and go and sometimes we barely notice them before they are gone.

Life has its seasons like the seasons of the wind. There are seasons and then there is love.

Love is a gift for all seasons - conquering all with its singularity and its beautiful and perfect power. Unlike anything else, love must be given away before you can have it. Like a tender plant - it grows when we tend it well and dies when we neglect it.

Love is that tender shoot that rises up from the still-frozen earth seeking to find the face of the early-spring sun - and finding it rejoices by thriving - even against all odds. Even in the freezing face of the wicked and wild winter wind, love grows and blossoms beautifully. Love is the flower that stands defiant in the snow that lingers on the near-frozen, early-spring earth - the glorious flower that blooms in delicious deliciously indifference to the calendar - a calendar that matters only to those who live by it.

Love is a gift for all seasons. It blossoms in the most unlikely places and thrives in the most hostile environments. It takes care not where it grows but only that it be given away and cared for. It is only when love is given away that it thrives and grows.

Seasons come and seasons go, but love is always with us. Love conquers hate. Love conquers time. Love conquers death.

Love is a gift for all seasons.

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