There are days when I am driving down and up and over these country roads on the way to work I feel as if I am driving right through a country calendar; the scenes are so beautiful!  This week there was a thick blanket of snow and all the tree branches had been sugar-frosted by the fog.  It was so beautiful it seemed surreal in the soft colors of a dawn sky.  Yesterday, fog again but the sun was trying to break through it!  Every day it is a new painting, sometimes with animals wandering or flying through, often frost or fog or sunshine or an awesomely spectacular sky.  I am so blessed to start my day like this!  Thank you, Father God!

Angus called on his way home from work at 9 a.m. "I think I'm going to golf this morning."
"Oh, yeah? You goin' alone?" says me, knowing his golfing buddy is still out of town.
"Probably... unless you want to come. (pause) ....I'll get a golf cart. You can drive."

You need to understand, when Angus golfs he speed walks. For him it is not only about golf but about exercise, too. I went out with him a couple of times last year, just keeping him company, tagging along. I could not keep up, he walks so fast. I really tried to be tough and not show that my calves were on fire and I was panting as quietly as I could but finally I told him "Hey, you're killin' me." and he slowed down to a normal fast pace which was till a lot of exercise.

Today, when he offered the golf cart I knew he really did want me to come, so I went. Why not? I said I wanted to walk it, I'd been walking with the dog lately so felt up to the challenge When he saw me slip on my flip-flops he said "Are you going to wear those?" Man-speak for "Are you nuts?" "Yeah, I walk in these all the time." Woman-speak for "You can't tell me what to do."

It had rained earlier in the morning and the air was still heavy with humidity but the sky was overcast and there was a slight breeze. We begin the trek to the first hole. Before we had gone past the 2nd hole I had a blister on my left foot. Instead of being miserable for the next 6 holes I just slipped off my flips and Angus slid them wordlessly into a pocket on his cart.

Suddenly walking on a lush, thick green carpet. It was cool and slightly moist under my feet as I walked beside my husband in the peace of the late morning. I wondered if anyone else had ever walked this place barefoot and experienced the soft joy I was feeling. It occurred to me that here I was standing in a little piece of grassy heaven and no one was appreciating it in quite the way I was. By standing barefoot on it I was somehow a part of the environment I was in and I saw things differently than I'd have otherwise. I spotted a deer track near a marsh. I noticed the places where clover was trying to intrude. I felt the sun slip in and out between the clouds and I caught the breeze gently lift my hair ever so slightly. It occurred to me that a golf course is a part of nature, however manicured it may be, beauty is everywhere!

I am so glad I did not miss out on that opportunity so feel closer to Angus, nature and God.

We'd pitched our tent close to the creek and the rushing of the water over the little rapids just downstream was a soothing sound that made for peace-filled sleep. Just the night before we'd been sleeping in a dorm with a couple of dozen bunk beds occupied by others who'd come to the Appalachian Mountains to work. A week repairing houses and painting barns in the deep humidity of Kentucky, living in a community of friendly strangers had been great but we were eager to get on with our vacation and had headed to the nearby Smoky Mountains.

The contrast was surreal. The calm, quiet and solitude were more needed than we had realized. The first morning we woke to rain. Well, every morning we woke to rain. We'd planned to do a lot of hiking but with the threat of rain looming

and the incredible humidity, only managed two good hikes. Vince was so sweaty after he looked as if he'd been through a rain shower! One cloudy morning we were driving around when we came across a path to Lookout Tower. We walked up the path and up the tower to see the view and all we could see were clouds below us... but above was blue sky!

The next day, cloudy again! We took the same path up to the tower and discovered a much clearer view of our surroundings and it was beautiful! We decided it wasn't going to rain any more and trotted back down to do some hiking.

That was the day we took our long hike. The trail to Abrams Falls was closed due to "bear activity" so we missed out on that but we found another that led us up to the heights and down in the valleys. We were so deep in the woods that at one point it was almost spooky. We never saw a sign of another person all day! If felt good to be so free and wild. There were interesting things of nature all around us.

We love camp cooking and we and some wonderful meals, some of which we ate under a lean-to as we watched the rain speckle the creek. We tried out a couple of new recipe ideas I'd found on the internet and they definitely earned their way onto our camp menu in the future. On the way down the highway we had stopped at a flea market where we ended up purchasing quite a bit of local produce.

We did end up leaving a couple of days early. We saw some great views, met many nice and friendly people and discovered much to love about the region. The rain, oppressive heat and humidity finally got to us though and we were ready to head home (to much of the same, more rain, heat and humidity).

Life is good.

One bird chirps outside my window. One bird in the dark. He chirps again, proud to be the one who calls forth the morning. A gentle breeze filters through the screen and as it brushes over me I arise. I close the window and lower the shades so Angus will sleep another few hours after working through much of the night.

I don’t want to miss a moment of the awakening world so I hurry, grab my robe and tiptoe down the stairs. Not wanting to invade my world with artificial light, I maneuver easily through the darkness to the kitchen. The numerals shine at me from the microwave clock, 5:55. By the glow I choose a mug, the one Zeke brought me back from the Petrified Forest, fill it with yesterday’s coffee and zap it for 50 seconds. It is stuffy in the house and I am impatient to get outside. I open the back door and step into the place between night and morning.

My wake-up bird is still calling, singing out his joy. I hear “This is the day the Lord hath made!” in his four little notes and my mind sings the answering “Let us rejoice and be glad in it!” The chairs are still stored for winter so I sit cross-legged on the deck, facing the woods beyond and listen to the world wake up. The silhouettes of the trees stand out against the gray sky. Another bird sings out from the Hackberry tree beside me and the duet begins.

There is a refreshing breeze and it plays with the little dragonfly chimes and sprinkles tinkling notes as more birds begin to join the chorus. Now and then the breeze picks up and the bamboo chimes chunk its bass tones into the melody. An owl barks out a single “hoot” and a turkey “gobbles” every few bars. He must’ve been roosting in the trees out back and knowing this sends a wave of pleasure through me.

I notice the tops of the trees waving their arms to the morning music. The sky is already lightening into a pale gray and I can make out the lovely white branches of the sycamore by the creek. There is still no color in the dawning sky so the Red Bud, in full bloom looks as if it has been swallowed by a cloud. The slender branches of the Maple sway gently and even the knobby, angled branches of the Hickory dance.

The breeze is growing stronger, probably bringing with it the rain predicted later in the day. The chimes become a frenzy of tinkles and clunking and the birds are a full choir now. A squirrel chatters at me and urges me to get on with my day. I reluctantly stand, my mug now empty but my heart is full. I have been gladdened and feel grateful for life. Today I start my day with joy.

I awoke to the sound of chirping outside my window.  I couldn't resist opening my eyes to see what this mysterious bird could be, so happy on this first really cold day of November.  Within my view was one fat fellow cheerily pulling dried hackberries from the branches.  Grabbing my glasses and raising myself higher I found that it was a robin and there were several more of his companions doing the same.  The surrounding trees were full of singing robins, no doubt thrilled to find such bounty when most food sources appear to be gone.  The sharp wind was blowing their feathers inside-out but they didn't seem to mind as they cheerily filled their bellies before they continued their flight south.

I smiled and reminded myself that it is time to take down the hummingbird feeders and hang the bird feeders.  What a great way to begin the day opening one's eyes to the simple joys of the world.  It would go on to be a very good day.

~This is the day the Lord hath made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.~

I am so fortunate to start my work day with a drive through three miles of desolate country roads. I am constantly being surprised by the simple beauty in this common everyday world. I think most people just see dust and weeds and trees that have grown too far over the road.

There's the isolated corner were people sometimes come to dump their old sofas and trash they don't want to pay to have hauled off. I guess that's pretty much what I notice on my way home, too. In fact a lot of times I'll even take the longer route going home just to avoid the gravel.

I am not sure why I am still surprised by the what I find around the curves and over the hills every morning. The landscape itself doesn't change; fields and woods, a creek crossing, a pond, an old abandoned house... and gravel. But the look of it is constantly changing.

In Autumn leaves change color gradually, deepening and finally dropping and leaving their lovely litter to pile and blow across the gravel. It is a new experience daily.

Winter days are often dull but the mornings are always frosted. That which I hate on my windshield is beautiful on branches, grass stems, seed pods and vines. There is nothing as lovely as ice on the fences and snow changes everything with its soft pure blanket covering the dust. Often the rising sun shines through the morning sky making the frost, ice or snow sparkle.

Spring is washed afresh with the rains and the gray turns green with bud and leaves. Piles of fluffy white wild flowers grow and reach out as I drive by changing to Black-eyed Susans and blue Chicory as Spring grows into summer.

There is often fog at any time of year and it is always magical as passing through a soft dream.

I see deer regularly but am always fascinated. Turkeys are also regular visitors, sometimes singly but usually in flocks. One time I startled a turkey who was starting to wander across the road as I came over a hill. He lifted his hulking body into the air and flew over the hood of my car and up into a tree on the other side of the road. I wondered if his heart stopped for that moment as mine did!

I have only touched the surface of the beauty I get to enjoy every day. I try to use my drive time to reflect on the blessings around me. I try to use it to put me in a place where I can pass that joy and contentment on later in the day. I usually forget it though... until the next day when I am once again reminded of God's gifts that surround us and we don't recognize them.

I am so thankful that he gives me another chance, every single day, no matter how badly I messed up the day before, no matter how much I disappointed him, he gives me a new start every morning. I think God has faith in me. Sometimes that's what keeps me going.

He has faith in you, too.

I woke and the alarm clock glowed 5:22.... too early to get up. I almost rolled over and went back to sleep when I remembered the Perseid Meteor Shower. It was supposed to peak at 4:30 a.m. I thought maybe if I got up I could still catch a bit of it.

The debate in my mind, whether it was worth getting up for, actually awakened me so I did get up. I grabbed a blanket to lay on and stepped outside. It was still so humid but surprisingly cool so I grabbed another blanket to cover up with.

I laid down and gazed up at the darkened sky. There were some streaks of clouds and the sky had already lightened enough that not a lot of stars were visible, but I was comfy and it is always amazing to stare into the night sky so I stayed.

I stared into the sky and thought about all the zillions of stars up there. I knew there were also meteors out there whizzing past the earth, too. But I couldn’t see them. As many as 80 per hour at peak the newsperson had said. Even at half that I should be seeing some… and then I did.

It was so quick but it was there and I saw it. I thought what a beautiful miracle it was. I remembered the time Angus and I were young and had been driving home late one night from the city. We caught a meteor shower through the windshield and we hadn’t known it was going on so it caught us by surprise. Some were quick and short but others were bright and had long trails across the black sky. We delighted and pointed, “Oh! Look at that one! Did you see that one?“ It just kept on and on, one after the other. We were so amazed and grateful… but after awhile we just stopped paying attention, even as they continued to streak through the sky.

Isn’t that how it is with God’s wonderful miracles? Like the stars, they are out there all the time. Constantly surrounding us but not always visible. Most of the time we don’t even notice because we see them so often we don’t even think of them as miracles any more.

The mosquitoes were buzzing me by then. The first high-pitched singer started buzzing me soon after I’d laid down, so I had covered myself neck to toe with the blanket and waved it away if it came in too close. After I saw my “shooting star” I quit watching. I rolled over and covered my head, too.

I had seen a meteor and I thought I would just lay there and listen to the world awaken. The crickets made beautiful background music for my soprano mosquito. Soon an alto joined her and then another. I honestly did not know that mosquitoes sound different but these three definitely all had their own individual songs. I didn’t enjoy it though and I jumped up, grabbed the blankets (flinging my glasses somewhere beyond onto the lawn) and ran back into the house.

While I was crawling around in the grass feeling for my glasses, I thought about how distracted we get from all that God has to offer us… all of his plans for us, too. Or we just flat out ignore them because it is hot under the blanket and we don’t like what’s going on around us any way. So we split. Take the easy way and miss the opportunities. We wander around blindly until daylight comes and we see a glint in the grass and we can see again but only because we searched!

...Okay, I’ll quit. I just get like this sometimes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The invariable mark of wisdom is to see the miraculous in the common." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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I'm not there yet...

The walking tunnel into







Cuyahoga Valley National Park:

It was hot and humid and the sky darkened while we walked, as if the skies would open up at any moment and drench us. It was then we came upon Icebox Cave.

No kidding.

It’s morning here in Missouri with a hint of the heat and humidity in the air that will make the afternoon a time to be spent indoors or in the shade. It’s still cool enough right now though and there’s a slight breeze. I go out back to check and see if the sheets have dried from the dew. I press my face into each sheet and pillowcase as I unclip it. I can’t help myself!

I always hang out my sheets after washing… if there is time… and if it’s not raining or freezing or stupid-hot. Okay, so I don’t really hang them out as much as I’d like but I try. I don’t hang out any other laundry anymore but there is nothing like that fresh smell sheets acquire from hanging outside on a cool day. When it gets hotter I hang them overnight. Eventually it is hot at night as well and it doesn’t work and I have to wait until fall to achieve that moment of pure surprise and joy when I open the linen closet and pull out the fresh sheets; the fragrance of them comes to me like an old friend. I lay my head down on the pillow after a tiring day and the fragrance of the wind gives me peace for deep sleep... for one night anyway.

I’ve even told my boys “If I’m ever laid up in the hospital, don’t bring me flowers… bring me a fresh hung-on-the-line pillow case.”

Do you think I’d love the fragrance as much it was readily available in a bottle or a dryer sheet (Oh, they’ve tried to duplicate it!)? Or is it like fresh home-grown tomatoes? Only available for 2 or 3 months so you build up a mouth watering desire for them.

Anyway, there it is. My hands-down all-time favorite smell, beating out coffee brewing and bread baking, although those are also winners. What does it for you?

It was one of those fleeting moments where everything comes together and life feels perfect and you know it won’t last so you soak it in and let it fill you.

I glanced over at Angus grilling fat juicy burgers and noticed a squirrel ransacking the Mulberry tree behind him. It stopped now and then to scold Miss SuzyQ as she carefully watched his every move from below. Eventually she gave up the hopeless waiting game and took her place beside me on the deck. I sat rocking in a slow rhythm, occasionally taking a sip of wine as the sun just dipped below the trees.

The rocking chair had been a Mother’s Day gift a few years ago. The boys had gone together and bought it, knowing my love for sitting on the deck observing, reading and just enjoying. They have memories of me rocking them sleep at night, reading or singing our own made-up lyrics to “Mockingbird“. “If that mockingbird won‘t sing, Mama’s gonna buy you a squishy thing. If that squishy thing gets flat, Mama’s gonna buy you a brand new hat (or cat… or rat).” Oh, they loved that song! It changed every time we sang it and it never failed to quiet a sad little boy. Eventually the old rocking chair with teething marks on its arms symbolized “bedtime” and they wanted nothing to do with it. Now, a different rocking chair, a different purpose but it still brings me closer to the boys when I think about it.

Captain Jack lay quietly beside me taking it all in with me. Now and then I would drop my hand down and rub his cheek. He’d squint and lean into it with gratitude and barely notice when his sister joined us. He was once a bold, brave tomcat who wanted nothing more than to escape the domestic life.
One time he was gone overnight and came back with his eye swollen shut. He had a worbal in his eye that the vet removed and said he’d have gotten the maggot-like parasite from sticking his head in a rabbit hole. A few days later, feeling better, he disappeared again for three days. When he came back he was a changed cat. Frightened of everything. So jumpy that the boys couldn’t resist surprising him whenever they got the chance and laughing hysterically when he jumped a foot straight in the air. He has since settled down to be our homeboy, seldom venturing more than a few yards from the house. He has lost his lust for adventure.

The aroma of the hickory smoke and the seared meat was making me hungry. Brutus lay on the grass near the grill, his head up but careful not to look in the direction of the fabulous smells that were wafting his way. Such a greatly disciplined dog he is! He is a black lab we inherited when my brother moved from his house with a little fenced back yard to a house on a golf course. He has been a great addition to our family and loves the country life. He loves the woods out back and comes home grinning and covered with ticks. He is gone more than he is here, roaming with the coyotes, I wonder? But this evening he has joined us and I am glad for it.

The birds are active on this cool evening, flitting from tree to tree, they give out happy chirps different than their morning singing. They must be wearier now but still hopeful to fill those little birdie-bellies back at the nest. I watch to see if I can locate a nest but give up and turn my attention to my chickens wandering about the yard.

They have found something yummy up near the road and scratched the mulch away from the flower beds to get at the something hidden beneath. They stay together as they meander along the driveway and back into the yard. One of the hens is a straggler, attentive to some grub hidden in the grass. She suddenly notices they’ve left without her and she runs to catch up. She lifts her skirts and wobble-runs toward the others.

I knew we’d be eating on the back deck in a few minutes, taking advantage of the mild weather that we both knew would not last. It would be just Angus and me, the boys having all gone off with friends tonight for sand volleyball. I am thinking about how nice it is to have this quiet dinner at home with Angus. We’ve had so little alone time over the years but we are transitioning. I wonder, in a year or two when all the boys have gone and only come home sporadically, will we still cherish these quiet evenings alone?

It was a lovely, quiet meal. We talked and smiled and as we cleaned up afterwards, the house filled with young people again and the fridge door opened and laughter flowed. Someone flipped on the TV and we all sat jumbled together watching “Shrek“ because that was what was on. There were too many for the seating but no one cared. They crunched together, they sat on the floor and chuckled at the silly jokes. I noticed the look of contentment that had settled over Angus as he sat comfortably among them and I felt the same.

Life is so good.

It’s amazing what a
handful of dewy wild blackberries
discovered
quite unintentionally on a
cool June morning walk
can do for the
troubled soul.

Bitter, sweet juice on my tongue
purple-stained hand;
cleansed thoughts.

The month of March was the third warmest on record here in Missouri. They told us that it wasn’t going to last but I had been lulled into the hope of an early spring.

I watched as the peach trees bloomed. I planted the cold-hardy veggies, and sneaked in a few of the later ones, too. The cherry tree burst into bloom followed by the pears. I was harvesting asparagus…in March! My water lily leafed out and floated gracefully over the heads of my fish and some tadpoles that have hatched out. Even the lilac began to bloom!

Then it happened. Not just a frost but a hard freeze! Predictions of lows down in the 20°s were realized. …And there was nothing I could do but watch.

I drove off to work and noticed all the tulip heads hanging. They looked as if they were deeply saddened. They seemed to be praying, every head bowed. The timing was perfect (as God’s timing always is). Holy Week.

Those flowers reminded me how only a few days earlier they had been beautiful and proud, rejoicing in the light and warmth of the sun… just like the people had on Palm Sunday so many years ago. I wonder what the disciples must have been thinking…”Ah, at last! He is getting the recognition and priase he deserves!”.

Jesus warned them repeatedly that he would die, that they would fail him. They just didn’t get it. My brain knew that the cold weather surely couldn’t be over yet… but I wanted it so badly. Then the cold streak hit and it has taken its toll.

The tulips bend almost to the ground in their sorrow. The disciples must have hung their heads like that in their shame. They surely all wanted had thoughts of their failure. They may have even wanted to kill themselves just as Judas did.

In the afternoon on my way home from work, SURPRISE, the tulips had raised their heads again. The sun had come out and got their juices flowing! They were not standing so tall and proud now… just a little bent. The Son came back to the disciples, too. He gave them hope again. They finally got it. They went on, humbled now, understanding what true sacrifice is. Understanding what Grace is. They had hope and humility and faith. They did go on living and spreading the Good News.

We are forgiven. We can start over again knowing that. We can raise our heads again. Jesus is here with us! We can keep on going in hope and in serivtude and in joy! Happy Easter to all of you, my friends.

I planted today. I had turned the beds earlier last week on a sunny day near 80°s. It felt so good to be outdoors working in the sunshine. I was sweaty and had to stop and rest now and then but I felt so alive! I never really feel alive until Spring comes along. I am like a Daffodil bulb resting in the earth, soaking up the winter rains and snowmelts enough to survive. They prepare me for the time when the sun will finally shine and the earth will warm and I can come out again to do what I am meant to do. Most of the time for me winter is somthing to be survived, tolerated, not enjoyed.

It was cold and windy this morning and rain threatened, yet I planted. Poking the peas down into the cold soil happily. Sprinkling the tiny lettuce seeds in the fairly straight rows I had just marked and then patting them into the earth. My hair was blowing all over the place and my fingers were almost numb but all was well with the world... at least at that moment in my mind.

It's raining now with a warm up to follow in a few days. I can almost see those little wrinly peas sprouting and reaching up toward the warm above... Busting through the thin crust at the very top into the sunshine. I'll bet they'd shout "Hallelujah! Spring is here!" ...if sprouts could shout.

I wonder if I would appreciate Spring (and life) so much if there was never winter. I wonder if I would appreciate God so much if my soul never experienced winter.

I heard the strange tap dancing sound coming from outside. I went to the window gazed down on the deck below but saw nothing. Suddenly I realized the sound was coming from above me. I leaned my cheek close to the glass and looked up to see a line of feathered tails bobbing from the gutter above. I suppose the birds were lined up drinking from the stream of melting ice flowing into the gutters. It has been in the 20°s today but finally sunny after days of cold. I went for the camera but the birds were gone before I returned.

When the weather gets like this, with freezing rain and ice and dipping below 0° at night, I hunker down at home and stay put. Leaving the house only to carry in the logs for the fire and to the dog and the chickens.

The animals I see from my toasty shelter, unlike me, seem to be more active than usual. The birds frantically attack the feeders and one another for the prime feeding spots. The squirrels come looking for the peanuts that I put out on the deck last week. The raucous Blue Jays and the parade of bounding, leaping, and creeping squirrels have already consumed those leaving only the cast off shells to blow off onto the icey grass below. They do their acrobatic Olympics, trying their best to beat the designer of the squirrel-proof bird feeders I have hung outside the kitchen window.

A rabbit hops up to the fence of the chicken run. He must smell the grain within but he is locked out and moves on. I look out later as I wash dishes and see a flock of cardinals pecking at the scratch I threw out earlier for the chickens. The chickens are in their coop staying out of the wind but the Cardinals do not seem to notice it. I see a Robin and a male Buebird hopping from branch to branch of the Hackberry tree above the old playhouse gobbling up the dried berries that stubbornly still cling to the twigs. He is about a month early and I wonder what that means. An early Spring perhaps? He has come to scout out a good nest site for his mate who will come later but today he is focused on the fuel that will get him through this cold spell.

I settle back into my chair with a book I have nearly finished and feel grateful for my warm and peaceful abode.

I was driving to work on only four and a half hours of sleep. I'd been off for 2 weeks for the holidays and was having trouble adjusting back to the "go to bed early & wake up early" routine. I'd been allowing myself to wake up naturally and it felt so good! But yesterday it was back to rising before the sun and dressing in the dark while my husband who works nights still slept. I'd stayed up way too late the night before and knew I would pay the price for that as the day wore on. But it was the beginning of a new year and it felt good to be looking at the future.

My 15 minute morning drive along the back roads is always a spiritual, praying, thinking and readying time for me. The low light of dawn is conducive to peaceful and rejuvenating thought. I needed that as I headed back to work (and the "real" world) .

I had just rounded a bend when I suddenly saw the full moon low in the darkened, tri-colored sky. There was a brilliant star low beside it and it shown so brightly that it looked a promise. The Morning Star. It looked like a beautiful, surreal watercolor painting. The colorful sky, the full moon, the brilliant morning star and the perfect timing & feeling of heading into a brand new year... it lifted me to a place of hope.

Okay, so I know that the star was really a planet, probably Venus, but that does not take away my joy of that very moment. I have never seen anything like that before and I will take that image with me and remember it. I will pull that painting from my brain it will remind me of the feelings I had. Brains and memories are good for that. I'll think of this new year and of hope and that God gives us a renewed strength when we need a fresh start. It always amazes me that God gives us just what we need when we need it. He knows before we ask and it is just there waiting for us to notice.

I wonder how many times I don't.

I felt like Jack looking out from a stem of his beanstalk...all up in the air and surrounded by a cloud. I had just awakened and went to the window just like I do most mornings....thanking God for the day ahead and asking his guidance. I love this window view. It's as if I have the most wonderful painting and it is always changing, surprising me with something new or something I had not noticed before.

Today it was the fog. It was a wispy fog, hence the feeling of being in a cloud. I felt light and happy. Here it is just a few days before Christmas and I had hardly given it a thought. I had done just the minimal Christmas gifting and baking and only when "required" for work or for church. I hadn't made a Christmas list or decorated or even put the tree up.

I had been busy with something else that was consuming all my time and thoughts and energy. It was somthing important that needed to be planned and carried out and done right. I was taking care of that stuff and meeting with other people working on that project. Angus was understanding and the boys were tolerant. They knew this was a labor of love for me...not something I had to do but something I wanted to do. But it was wearing me down, I think.

Anyway, last night the event took place and ended in a beautiful worship service. Now I am on to Christmas and I suddenly feel happy and lifted up. It's as if I missed all the Christmas "have to" stuff and found out that, hey, guess what? it's not really "have to" stuff after all. I didn't have to get the house decorated right after Thanksgiving and I didn't have to get the tree up or bake cookies or shop, shop, shop. Christmas is still coming even without that and I feel good about it. This has been the least commercial, least secularish Christmas season.

I think we actually stopped the Christmas machine!

Something about waking up in a cloud made me feel nearer to God and that is how I have felt ever since. I have not explained it very well. I guess, I just didn't let the pressure (mostly self-imposed) that usually goes along with Christmas get to me. I was just too busy to notice that it was approaching, put it at the back of my mind, still participating in what I thought was important and just blowing off the rest of it. Life is good!

The glow from the rising sun reflecting on the bright orange and yellow Maple leaves actually hurts my eyes in the mornings these days. It is kind of shocking but in a wonderful way. The walls opposite the windows have look as if they are painted a pale orange but they are just tan. One wouldn't think it possible but, honestly, the colors are so vibrant and the light so strong that it literally hurts my eyes to look at them! ...and yet I cannot stop myself from gazing at them. There are so many different colors ranging from plain old green to brick red with everything brilliant in between; lime green, mustard yellow, lemon yellow, melon, salmon, chartreuse, red, magenta...and more...so many more colors. My artistic mind wants a name for every blend of green/yellow, yellow/orange I don't have the color-vocabulary to define them. The contrast with the near-black branches adds to the beauty. It is breathtaking.

Suddenly it occurs to me that ..God is an artist! a creator of beauty for pure enjoyment, his and mine. He has given me this lovely creation outside my bedroom window. I start my autumn days knowing God is real and he is here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God painted last fall, too, but I didn't notice it 'til night. Sometimes it's not with my eyes that I see his creations. Does God give us these gifts of beauty because we need them or do we just notice them when we need them? Either way, I praise the God that created life and love and hope. amen.

The grass is green this morning!

The hummingbird flits its zig-zag flight plan toward the red prism of sweet nectar. There is a heavy dew on the uneven, unmowed lawn. It glints in the low morning sun and frosts the scene outside my window.

Spider hangs there on its dew-heavy web, ever hopeful of a grasshopper breakfast. I'm drawn out the door. I want to hear the morning...and I am not disappointed.

The air is cool. When did I last feel the morning chill?

The birds lift their morning praise in the branches as the crickets harmonize. A dog barks the bass line in the distance and the hummingbird add the percussion of its beating wings.

The sparkling dew drops bead and drip from the petunias and zinnias applauding the chorus as the sun rises into the green leaves of the trees to conduct this orchestra.

Oh, yes, the grass is green this morning.

rain...Glorious Rain

would we appreciate it if it came
in weekly intervals of 1 inch
all through the growing season
just like the gardening books recommend?

rain...Glorious Rain!

Yes! Thunder, keep me awake all night long!
Yes! Drip & drizzle all over my freshly washed car!
Yes! Make mud in the path and puddles in the parking lot!

Rain...Glorious Rain!

Rain out the ball game
make soccer practice into a Slip 'n Slide!
Rain til the rock-hard earth with its spikey brown haircut
sighs and dissolves into a mooshy, squishy carpet

Rain til the tomatoes burst with joy
Who will complain?

rain, glorious rain...