A Woman And a Dog Walking in Washington Grove.

“Wisdom Begins in Wonder,”  — Socrates

We are still a woman and a dog walking in Washington Grove.  We are farther down the path.  Around the bend.

I am looking ahead.  Tessa is still air-sniffing and not-so-much looking ahead.

All along this path,  filtering in among the light and the almost imperceptible wind, I have felt such serenity.  How,  in what really is a city neighborhood,  can this place,  Washington Grove,  exist?

To me, it feels like sacred space.

And, there, in the trees  just up the path,  is a dancing orange light that is bright enough to attract my attention yet isn’t clear enough to be defined.  With just a heightened sense of “what is it?” we keep walking towards it.

Such a blaze of yellows and oranges that turns out to be the changing colors of low-to-the-ground shrubs and bushes;  the underbelly of the grove.  Still.  It signaled that there might be Something More.

And, so there was!

Did you once … could you now … believe in faeries?    [gplus count=”true” size=”Medium” ]

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