Thunder

After a long cold winter, the earth has heaved a sigh of relief, 

its warm breath moistening the air and spurring new growth. 

In the afternoons, thunderheads have been sprouting against blue skies, promising rain and delivering little, though showers poured down all around us. But this morning, a storm kicked off with Goliath's bowling ball bouncing on the roof, followed by raging wind and rain. 

I love Midwest thunderstorms; they always sound like they mean business. Growing up in the Northwest, most of the thunder I remember was distant and didn't send dogs slinking under the bed. 

I was in my twenties the autumn I moved from Oregon to Kansas City. Dad had recounted with fondness the storms of his youth in Illinois, and I waited through a bitter winter before experiencing my first Midwest spring storm. Thunder jolted me awake in the middle of the night, and deciding to get all I could out of the show, I padded into the tiny apartment kitchen and popped some popcorn. 

Back in the bedroom, I sat on the floor near the sliding glass doors, my neck craned, and watched in wonder as lightning split the sky, and the heavens roared. It was spectacular, everything I had hoped for.

I will never tire of the marvel thunder and lightning, or of the reminder that the One who made the storm is the One who loves us more than we can comprehend.

Who can understand how He spreads out the clouds,

how He thunders from His pavilion?

Job 36:19 

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son...  

John 3:16 





Check out more sky images at the Skywatch site!

Also linking with Mandarin Orange Monday
and Weekly Top Shot

Sweet Music

An unfamiliar melody high in the trees caught my attention last week. I heard the sweet lilting music a few times before I could connect it with the singer, the Rose-breasted Grosbeak. These striking birds are only occasional visitors here, passing through in the spring, and now at least one pair is frequenting the oak trees, eating the tassels. They are quite welcome to them. They also make themselves at home at our birdbath and feeders.

The male wears his heart on his throat. When he sings, he barely opens his beak, but the throat patch moves like a fluttering heartbeat.

It's been five years since we've heard one of the Baltimore Oriole's rich tunes.  

A couple of years ago, we heard reports of sightings in Protem, which is heartbreakingly close to us,

 but the birds never made it to our place, at least, not while we were looking, which is much of the time.  

They are fond of oranges, so I cut one in half and put it out on the table on our deck. 

I was happy to learn that they love mandarins, too, since I had a bag of them on hand. 

The male matches them perfectly and stretches to eat every last morsel.

The female's coloration is more subtle...

...but she is no less energetic when it comes to digging out sweet morsels.

When they sing for their supper, we definately get the best end of the deal.

Linking with Saturday's Critters
Wild Bird Wednesday
and Mandarin Orange Monday

Instant Gratification

The first part of August was unusually wet this year, too wet to mow the grass. As a result, treasures sprang from the ground in the form of a variety of mushrooms, pushing aside earth and rocks to make their way toward the sun.  They grew before our eyes.  With all the things in this world one has to wait for, it's nice to have some instant gratification.

Mushrooms were strewn across lawns like miniature pyramids.

There were shiny red mushrooms, glossy as candied apples, and smooth white mushrooms and white mushrooms with bumps, and brown mushrooms, and green and orange and yellow ones.

Deer, chipmunks, rabbits, and squirrels eat mushrooms, and we're told that turtles find them irresistible.  A lady near here saw a mushroom in her field, big as a dinner plate, with eight turtles arranged around it, feasting as if they were seated at the table in King Arthur's court.

On the underside of the mushrooms, held in honeycomb-like containers...

 and in neat spore filing cabinets, are millions of potential new mushrooms. 

 We'll be waiting.






Linking with Mandarin Orange Monday

Seeing Red

Gray squirrels have never been endangered at our place.  Far from it.  We look out the window in the morning to see six or ten of them in a row eating the corn we've thrown out for the deer and turkeys, and two or three hanging out on the deck, as well as a few under the bird feeders.  They are so abundant that we pay scant attention to them, except when they chew on the deck, or dig up our newly planted bedding plants, or trash the bird feeder.

A little over a week ago, we saw a red squirrel, the first we've seen here in about six years. They're larger than the grays, and somewhat slower, and Don says they're dumber, too.  In the old days, when Don used to hunt squirrels, he was in a tree stand when a red squirrel came up to him, put it's small front paw on Don's boot, and looked up at his face.  That was the last time Don hunted red squirrels.  Don says he didn't have the heart to hunt something that clueless, it didn't seem sporting, but I suspect that the little creature's trusting move got under one tough hunter's skin.  The other day when I was about to chase Red out of the bird feeder, Don said, "this one gets a free pass".  Wonders never cease.

A few days later, there were two of them.  Now I've seen three at one time (don't tell Don), and who knows if there are more?

While the red squirrel honeymoon is still upon us, we're enjoying their antics.  When I stepped outside yesterday, one of them ran a short distance up a tree, then turned around and started down.  Halfway down the tree, it paused with its paw in the air, like an inchworm, flailing to find where to take its next step.

We went to visit some friends today, just west of here, and we saw a couple of red squirrels standing by the side of the road, shouldering tiny backpacks, their thumbs out, and a little sign that said "Smiley's place".

They're pushing it.

Linking with Camera Critters
and Mandarin Orange Monday

Ponder This

Linking with Weekly Top Shot, Mandarin Orange Monday and Scripture and a Snapshot

Changes

Just when it looked like autumn had pulled the curtain on all its finery,

some of the oaks brought their orange and gold garments from the wardrobe 

and took center stage.

Behind the curtains, ladybugs have been looking for warm places to hibernate,

some finding shelter inside nearby houses.

This one, not quite ready to give up summer, 

was taking her last swim of the season in our birdbath.

I fished her out, 

and she gave her head a little shake as if she'd misplaced her Swim-ear.

When she threatened to dive back in,

I moved her to the raspberry leaves,

where she looked much more comfortable.

She's on her own, though, when it comes to winter shelter.

A blue jay's distinctive call can be heard from the bandstand.

Though the birds like to perch on the winterberry trees,

the berries must not be ripe yet,

because nobody's biting.

As surely as the scenes change,

there is one thing that is always constant.

The Lord's lovingkindnesses indeed never cease,

For His compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;

Great is Your faithfulness.

Lamentations 3:22, 23

Linking with:
Soli Deo Gloria
Wild Bird Wednesday
Mandarin Orange Monday

Trumpet Players

It's another hot morning, and I'm out early watering the flowers. 

The trumpet vine catches my attention; 

as the first rays of sunlight illuminate its blossoms, 

it attracts a crowd of small creatures.

Into these miniature versions of a McDonald's play station, 

hummingbirds plunge and drink deeply, wrapped in orange light.

 There's a quiet resting place for the chipping sparrow...  

...but the carpenter bee heads straight into the blossom to do its job.

I count off a full 10 seconds before it emerges. 

It must be loath to come out, enveloped in that happy color, but it has more work to do. 

 On its fuzzy coat, it carries pollen to the next brilliant blossom, 

while honoring the One who taught it to do so.

Water splashes by my feet; I move the garden hose, 

and with the small creatures, I whisper my thanks.





Praise the Lord from the earth...

small creatures and flying birds...

Psalm 148:7, 10





Thanks to Kim Klassen for her lovely texture Elevate.

Linking with
Mandarin Orange Monday
Texture Tuesday
Wild Bird Wednesday