Thousands of years. Storms and wind and rain. The passing of human beings, leaving their mark. Thousands of years. Pointing the way, weathered by rain, snow, hail and much more. Original purpose may be lost to us. But we want to know and enquire and make sense.
What matters is what it points to. The possibility of a divine being and creator who stepped into the world and saw that it was good.
Difficult to image in these days through which we pass. The uncertainty and perhaps fear. But the still small voice of calm as the creator touches our hearts.
Blessing and peace,
Musings 