Bluebells

Walking familiar paths, paths shared with Little Man, I pondered on loss and how it feels to be without him. Bluebells emerge from the ground and flower each year, as late spring begins to develop into early summer. They are transitory and yet permanent. Perhaps it is so with all life? Transitory and yet permanent. Near and yet far. Here and yet there. Within and yet without.

My thoughts turn to yin yang, the principle of natural forces, patterns and concepts that depend on one another and do not make sense on their own. The yin and the yang are not static; the balance is constantly shifting between them.

The loss I feel over Harris is yin yang and flows constantly between joy and sorrow.