The Virginity of the World

I want to paint the virginity of the world.
--Paul Cezanne

After the rain of two days ago, this mountain is aglow with the conjunction of light and moisture. Moss is plumped up and radiantly green, tree bark has relinquished its thirsty, scratchy texture for a softer, spongier one, and even the soil, having opened its infinitude of throats and drunk deep, is a lustrous terra cotta spiked with the first green blades of grass. Such renewal does feel like a return to the virginity of the world; a soothing of the abrasions caused by its interactions with humankind. In this quiet winter season, when energies are tamped down, slumbering deep in roots and seeds, we can all find this kind of refreshment in the simple but profound restorations occurring outside our doors. Put on a coat and some sturdy shoes and go tramping through a park or woods and see what I mean. This restoration is meant for us, too!