It mocks that your thoughts fly in the face of reason. It calls your affirmations that there "are no weeds" as you stand before a garden full of weeds, naive. It pours salt in the wound and becomes the pebble in your shoe. As if the drought of fall and the pending surrender of life until spring were not enough, it throws snow in your face.
The pull of doubt.
Reason can be wrong-ask Galileo. There are no weeds if you see the beauty of all living flowers and life. Salt heals. The pebble in your shoe can make you pause and refresh yourself. And a snowball fight can cause the spontaneous combustion of laughter.
Walk peacefully in the world. Let the footprints you leave be soft upon the earth. But when you meet up with the pull of doubt, doubt not the simple truth that you are not alone. Take hold of the outstretched hand whispering 'come on, I believe' for there will be one. Doubt not the strength of Hope's defiance.