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I am obsessed with the fact that my eyes are hazel.
For 37 years I thought my eyes were brown.
Were they always hazel? Or did they become hazel?
Ayla means oak tree.
My eyes are mostly olive green, or moss green. With an inner rim of brown and gold flecks.
Moss.
I’m becoming a tree.
Moss green, brown tree trunk interior.
Something so sure as eye color can actually be different than I thought.
What else can be different? Everything, I suppose.
There was no cancer and then there was cancer.
My family and I were no contact and then we were living together in harmony.
I was married and then I wasn’t.
I had a beautiful network and then I didn’t.
Trees are bare until they’re not.
There is so much that is beautiful here.
There is so much that can be beautiful.
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Oak trees are strong and beautiful. I love this post! I see the synchronicity.
Love oak trees and moss! So much character there, and such a beautiful reflection of your strength and endurance!