Spilt Wine

I came across this painting this morning on line. Not quite the same scenic view I had this morning. I arrived in North Lake Tahoe last night for a school safety symposium. When I awoke this morning, it had snowed two to three inches. After breakfast, I went on a walk in solitude to the lake while snowflakes floated down softly from above. The lake was rough with white caps and the shore was covered in white snow. Fog hung around the peaks of the mountains and tree tops that circle the lake. I tired to listen to God, but the lake was all I could hear. Crashing of waves, the tumbling of white caps and wind that breezed across the vast waters. Who knows, maybe that wasn’t the wind and water I heard after all, maybe it was God.