At the family ranch in the Panhandle of Florida, there stands a row of trees, known as an allée, lining what used to be the driveway for the horse and buggies my great and great great grandparents used to take to town.
On a hot summer day, over a hundred years ago, one of my great uncles was struck by lightning, and killed instantly, as he was tying up a horse next to this tree..He was 8 years old. I first heard this tale told as we sat on the front porch swing, sipping some sweet tea, watching the clouds roll in and listening to the thunder roar, last summer.
Then, I noticed the rather large knot in the tree next to the hitching post…maybe it’s just me, but I think it looks a lot like angel wings.
Ever felt an angel’s breath in the gentle breeze?
A teardrop in the falling rain?
Hear a whisper amongst the rustle of leaves?
Or been kissed by a lone snowflake?
Nature is an angel’s favorite hiding place.