There is a storm rolling in tonight. The flicker and flash of natural torment in the skies acts like caution lights begging for attention. This is a scene that is nothing new to this terrain. This landscape has rocked and rolled, accepted and denied the harsh reality of these momentary visitations. The soil all too well recognizes the tempest outbursts of course sensations that easily pour from the heavens. Possibly sweet relief can come from this storm, growth, fruit, nourishment... Conversely panoramas can wash out, the environment could transform into something new, something that can no longer sustain the utopia that was once expected. Either way change is inevitable- tomorrow's sunrise will highlight the alterations. Excepting the amendments that have been made to the soil and learning to labor the revolution into something unique and wonderful again is always a promising prospect with the right amount of optimism and treatment.
I sat outside as the clouds came over the sky like a closing curtain tonight. The horizon's backdrop lights fading, and the delicate dashes of heaven's irrigation kissing my cheeks and forearms. In front of me I admired my gracious garden and all its abundance. I had just called on and tucked in our hens in the coop moments before, flip flops on my feet and a velvety glass of merlot in my hand as I made my rounds. A little untraditional in my approach to this chore- maybe- but this is how I have always been. This is the reality of my quirkiness and unusual interpretation of personal methods. My style can be surprising even to myself sometimes but I want to think that I don't believe in all the man made rules. Who says it has to be only one way, always. OK, maybe the exception could be with chemistry- the finite particles and their policies of arrangement under certain elements of earth, wind and fire. A bread will burn if the oven temperatures are too fierce, this is true. A bread can also yield golden taste pleasures when affectionately prepared and tempered with love and care.
I am preparing for my final year of schooling. I am recognizing very curiously what I like about who I am becoming. It doesn't matter if I have the classification of chef in front of my name or not- the fact is that I know I love food. I love everything about it- creating with it is my art, my outlet of expression next to my writing anyhow. The two together feel like an unstoppable force. My pursuits will be successful, I am confident of this. I get it now, I understand that I have to be unafraid of unknowns and that my creations will be satisfying when I trust that I know what I can do. I am still and will always be learning... I may not be sure of when the next rainstorm will arrive, but I know that if I stay optimistic and hopeful, the way that I am- I will continue to grow and mature and become the person I was meant to be.