From:   Jan,  [email protected] Thanks to the scores of you who wrote to tell me the messages were "missed". As one subscriber asked..."if there really is a jan", I can assure you there is, and with manner of "human attributes". Nothing was at all wrong, I simply and humanly "got over my head" with spring cleaning and family affairs. Thanks much...jan ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Spring Dawns in Kentucky (from the Sunday Afternoon Rocking series) Spring dawns in Kentucky.  The hills are alive with fresh young yellow-green leaves, some tiny, still coiled, and just emerging from their budded nests. Others are already shining brilliant in the sunshine and softly rippling a  promise of greater things to come.  A week or so ago, brilliant displays of fushia peppered the landscape, redbuds announcing in startling color that the mountains were rustling their skirts, shaking out the bonds of winter.  Ground squirrels make a noisy path through the fallen leaves of last autumn, chattering to warn their cousins of the trees a strange "hooman" is in their midst.  A fawn peers out around a peeling birch at this strange being, then darts a bounding crooked path back to "mama", white tail bouncing like anything but a surrender flag.  It never fails to amaze me, seeing this annual display, that anyone could possibly believe there was no Creator, no deeply managed plan…and then close upon the heels of that brilliant flash of redbud fushia comes the final affirmation.  The dogwoods bloom, heralding in their very design, that yes indeed there was, IS a plan. Yes indeed, my thoughts on the matter were so…for there is the golden crown of thorns, the creamy petals extending to what could be nothing other than the memory of cruel nails, crimson stains about the edges.  Small wonder it is that a walk in the wilderness of a springtime Kentucky is an awakening and a renewal of faith, an affirmation of life. With such a weekend, my husband and I hit the trails.  We pitched our camp deep in the wilderness and nothing walled our world but that which was living.  Nothing stirred the silence but that which was natural and curious about our presence.  And in such a world I looked at my husband suddenly and said, "We are rich." "If I had at my disposal all the money in the world," he replied, "I would wish to be doing exactly what I am doing today, have nothing more than I have at this moment." And our eyes met in perfect understanding. Strange and comforting  it is, with nature around one, with the leafy green trees the wallpaper, and the soft fall of last year's trees the carpet. Strange it is how true it seems that one could live with nothing more, could easily leave behind all the trappings of civilization simply to be surrounded by this.  Strange it is, how easily one is able to wake in the morning when welcomed by the chirping birds of a forest, or how easy it is to fall asleep in the gentle enveloping world when the spangle of stars is the ceiling. And as always, when I walk the historic trails, the land untainted since the days the first ancestors walked this way…I wonder if they too had those thoughts.  If the calling of that great untouched wilderness, with its living wallpaper of shimmering rustling leaves, its floor blanketed with soft browns, its ceiling a never ending display of daytime colors and star-studded nights, must have been far richer to those folks than all the fine mansions of the east…  I think so, for some…else they would not have left it.  And for others, they too must have recognized the promise.  A good thing it is, that our country has seen fit to preserve a part of it…lest we never understand.  We are rich. Just a thought, Jan Copyright ©2001JanPhilpot ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (Note: Afternoon Rocking messages are meant to be passed on, meant to be shared...simply share though e-mail as written without alterations...and in entirety. If planned for a publication, permission must be granted by the author. Please forward sufficient information concerning the nature and intent of the publication. Thanks, jan) Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns are distributed weekly on the list Sunday Rocking. This is not a "reply to" list, and normally only one message per week will come across it, that being the column. To subscribe send email to [email protected] Comments about the content of these messages can be sent to [email protected] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~