I Love Sunflowers

It's sunflower season, and I love sunflowers.

I love the magic encased in their spiky packages,

and how their petals unfurl...

and turn toward the sun, catching its fire.

I love the way the little stars of pollen appear and multiply...

sprinkling out stardust like parmesan cheese on a pizza.

I love the way they adorn an evening table...

the gentle curve of their leaves...

the graceful arch of their stems and the stiff white hairs that cover them.

I love sunflowers, but more than that, so much more,

I love the One who made them,

who also made the stars,

who gave His life so we could live.

Linking with Weekly Top Shot,

Little Things Thursday

and Friday Photo Journal

First published on 9/12/11

Morning Praise

On this bright new morning, a robin greets the sun from her favorite fencepost.

Two bucks, most likely two year old twins...

now spar, preparing to be rivals. 

A juvenile purple finch perches on the supplejack,

and a tufted titmouse is silhouetted against an orange sky.

They all give praise to their Maker, doing what He created them to do.

Years ago, we used to sing a children's song in church, 

one that I believe holds true for God's children of any age:

The birds upon the treetops sing their song;

The angels chant their chorus all day long;

The flowers in the garden blend their hue,

So why shouldn't I, why shouldn't you praise Him, too?

If you'd like to see a very cute video of a little girl singing this,

click here.

Linking with Little Things Thursday,

 Good Fences 

and

Wild Bird Wednesday

Morning Missed

The night was restless; I forgot to set my alarm and got up late.  Remnants of mist lingered in the air.  It was undoubtedly glorious earlier, but now, the sun was far above the horizon. 

You don't get overs on mornings.

I missed a misty morning as I lay asleep in bed

Bright rays, the trees adorning, streamed through my dreams instead.

A rabbit ate the meadow rue, from what I ascertain

The only bunnies in my view hopped 'round inside my brain.

The droplets on the new-mown lawn were diamonds, so I'm told

But all the treasures of the dawn were someone else's gold.

In dreams, I held some butterflies, but dreams I cannot keep

I missed a misty sunrise as I lay there fast asleep.




Linking with Saturday's Critters