For the Price of a Pause

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Spring tiptoed in during the night.
I didn’t expect her so soon.
Winter may yet wave
a final icy farewell,
but today the air hums with Spring,
and I have paused my plans
to revel in her return,
to wonder at the newborn world.
Daffodils dance in a drowsy flowerbed.
Tiny purple blooms run wild in the grass.
Pear trees show off snowy white blossoms.
Lenten roses raise their faces, blushing.
Above in barely budding trees,
birds chatter and cheer and
sing welcome
as if they’ve been secretly saving,
all winter long,
this exact song
for this exact moment.
The breeze, mild and gusty,
flirts with the flowers,
ruffles the robin’s feathers,
whispers to the bluebird
a hint of rain to come.
I marvel at Nature’s generosity.
For the simple price of a pause,
she pours out to me more than I can hold—
seasonal symphonies of sound and song,
an ever-changing gallery of shifting colors,
shapes and shadows
coming and going and coming again,
all mine to see, to hear,
to hold in my heart,
all for the price of a pause.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2026. All rights reserved.

Why Not Love a Tree?

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

It was a death, I realized,
the cutting down of the tulip poplar
taller than our two-story house.
Her broad scalloped leaves were still healthy,
her tulip-shaped blooms pale yellow-green
splashed with orange in the shape of hearts
that looked hand-painted
by some mischievous wood-sprite.
She still looked healthy, shady, perfect
except for her trunk
now leaning at an unnatural angle,
shoved askew by storm winds.
On one side, roots had pulled free
creating a lovely-looking cavern—
if you were a fairy
or a chipmunk.
But even the small cavern was not safe.
Each gust of wind
rocked its grassy root-thick roof
and threatened to fell the tree.
Where exactly would she fall?
Would she crash into the old hackberry?
Would it take her weight?
Break her fall?
Or would she end up in the driveway?
Would she clip the corner of the house?
And when?
Luckily, she stayed standing
until the tree surgeons came.
Unluckily, it was a death.
She had begun her life as a twig
carefully carried home from school
by my second-grade son on Arbor Day.
He chose her spot and planted her.
She was barely visible on the lawn
and was mowed down at least once.
Amazingly, she rooted herself and grew.
By the time my son left home,
she was a grand shade tree
a beautiful reminder
of a little boy
with big expectations.
Now, almost forty years later,
she is gone,
and I am grieving.
Part of me says she was just a tree.
Maybe I shouldn’t have loved her so much.
Then I think—why not love a tree?
Or a dahlia.
Or a yard full of violets.
Why not love a sunrise,
a sunset?
Why not let the heart break
at a beauty so generous,
so fragile.
Love feels loss,
but love never really loses.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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Swallowing Sunshine

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Today I picked three palm-sized stars

with pure white petals.

Mandevilla they’re called,

a fancy name for a friendly flower that grows

on vines that twine around fence and stake

and the gangly stems of neighboring black-eyed Susans.

In the center of each bloom

is a deep throat of golden yellow,

as if they’ve swallowed sunshine.

They hold this inner glow of morning

through afternoon

and sunset

and twilight

and into the night.

Today I picked three palm-sized stars,

and they asked me what glowing ideas

I have swallowed.

Which are worth holding center-deep?

Which lead to peace and kindness

in this vining, entwining life?

Which will hold a warm glow within me

through sunset and twilight

and into the night?

I think I know the answer.

Only the golden grace of peace and lovingkindness

can last the day and pass through the night.

Today I picked three palm-sized stars

and, for a moment, held in my hand a hint of

nature’s wisdom.

-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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The Magic of the Ordinary

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

I would say it’s magical—

although it can be explained—

the way the pepper bush hides

within a pale, flat, round seed

snuggled in the warm dirt,

the way it wakes only when it’s ready,

the way it unfurls arrow-shaped leaves,

stretches thin arms to bask in sunshine,

flirts with wind,

revels in rain,

and smiles in small white blooms.

I know this can be explained,

but it seems magical,

the way those blooms shed petals

and take on pale green skin,

the way they curve and grow longer each day,

turning gold,

blushing orange,

deepening to red,

every day ripening

smooth, shiny, plump.

I pluck them free,

split them,

scoop out scores of seeds,

pale, flat, round,

magic,

for inside each

hides a pepper bush ready to emerge

when the time is right.

I dice these plump, ripe peppers,

stir-fry them,

taste their snappy sweetness,

and marvel at the goodness of the garden.

All of this can be explained,

I know.

But I say

it’s magical.

– kh –

Nurture peace, cultivate the seeds of kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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What the Bee Sees

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Lean close to summer blooms—

peek into petunias,

dive deep into daylilies,

stare boldly at black-eyed Susans,

push past flashy petals

into the center,

the inner sanctum,

anthers and stamen,

tiny flying flags

or miniature stars

or prickly pillows

dusty with pollen,

maybe moist with the season’s

sweet dew.

This is what the bee must see

as he follows the path

of a petal’s dark veins

to settle headfirst,

to nestle inside

for a moment

or two.

The butterfly flicks

her curling, unfurling,

thread-thin tongue

to taste this splendor.

The ant tiptoes in,

humble on this holy ground,

this extravagant gift.

It’s our gift too

for the mere price

of a moment’s noticing.

Peek in.

Dive deep.

Lean close.

Stare boldly.

See what the bee sees.

– kh –

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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Precise, Meticulous Beauty

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

It’s hosta season. Their large bouquets of leaves have been content to sit on the ground for weeks, soaking up the summer sun until they were ready to send up tall, thin stems and line them with buds. Last week, they were ready, bursting with light purple buds veined in darker purple. The petals of the buds are folded up, cupping their centers protectively the way my grandson’s hands cup a newfound treasure to hide and protect it.

This week, the buds began to open. Each bloom has six purple petals pointed at the tips. Deep inside where the petals connect to each other, they’re white. From that inner sanctum, one pure white pistil and six white filaments rise taller than the petals and curve gently down like a swan’s neck. At the end of each filament is a tiny, elongated anther of dark purple, maybe even black, with two of the tiniest, vertical, tan-gold stripes on their faces. I am amazed. There is nothing careless here.

It doesn’t matter to this hosta, this precise, meticulous beauty, whether or not I pause here to look closely. Hostas will keep budding and blooming and being beautiful, because that’s who they are. No, it doesn’t matter to the hosta if I see it or not. But it does matter to me.

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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St. Augustine’s Fear—And Mine

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

St. Augustine once said, “I fear that Jesus will pass by me unnoticed.” I fear that the gifts of this day will pass by me unnoticed—the cloud formations, the birds, the fragile blooms open to the sun at this moment, the peace within this day. So as I move through this day, I hope to look for the gifts that nature has for me and linger with them. – kh, Linger: 365 Days of Peaceful Pauses

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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A Rush of Richness

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

“The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush

The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush

With richness.”

– Gerard Manley Hopkins, “Spring” –

Nature of the week:—pear blossoms:

Shadow of the Week:

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Being Alive is the Magic

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

“The sun is shining – the sun is shining. That is the Magic. The flowers are growing – the roots are stirring. That is the Magic. Being alive is the Magic – being strong is the Magic. The Magic is in me – the Magic is in me. . . . It’s in every one of us.” –Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

Nurture peace, cultivate loving-kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week – from a walk at Cheekwood Botanical Gardens:

Shadow of the Week – Can you see the heart?

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For my posts on life, faith, and the mystery we call God, link here.