Sometimes you miss someone so much you just have to Google the distance: 2615.9 miles from my home to yours.
Almost the breadth of our continent.
Yet I always hold you in my heart, so you’re closer than any e-map could depict. (You might need a microscope to check that closeness!)
You are the light in many lives, and I am blessed that you are part of me, my family, my blood.
This DNA is more than cell-deep.
I thought of you while hiking the other day. The woods were lush and green, and we could see Puget Sound through the trees. There were foxgloves and wild violets, and many wildflowers we couldn’t identify.
It began to rain, and for a moment, I was transported back to Ontario, listening to raindrops on leaves in the woods where I learned to appreciate nature.
I didn’t know you were hiking in the woods too, collecting photo memories of trilliums.
These are the flowers I most associate with spring. Living so long on the West Coast — where California’s calla lilies bloom in January — my seasons have been transformed.
I wander our woods here in wonder, thankful for the rain that allows us to live in such abundance, in a Pacific Northwest rainforest.
Yet Ontario woods still have a grip on my imagination. This was where I learned to identify trilliums, and where my mind has returned every spring, no matter where I’ve lived.
Could you have imagined your trek in the forest would mean so much to me, 2615.9 miles away?
Thank you for the lovely photos, and thank you for the warm vision I have of you wandering your woods while I was wandering mine.
Thank you for bringing so much joy to my life, with your sunny outlook and optimism and generous nature.
Across 2,615.9 miles, know that I am with you, always.
And know that trilliums are a powerful link, no matter where they grow.