My Best Day

Last year, on a balmy, blue-sky spring day, Don and I had lunch at Cookies, a local restaurant.  On the way out, we chatted with our friend and proprietor, and she told us that in her opinion, that day was the best day of the year.  And when it comes to weather, she was probably right.

Today was one of those days, just possibly the best day of the year so far.  I had fully intended to work inside all day (a card deadline is looming) but on such a warm perfect Saturday, I could not resist the pull of the earth.  So instead, I spent a couple of pleasant hours outside in the afternoon, clearing leaves out of the flower beds.  At the bed under the old oak tree, a glance overhead confirmed that this would not be the last time.  A mass of last year's leaves still clings stubbornly to the tree, waiting for the new leaves to push them off.  I worked my way around the tree counterclockwise, reacquainting myself with old friends.

6:00  William Churchill daffodils are up about 8" already.  The blossoms, when they come, will be frilly white with a bright orange stigma, and a heady fragrance.

5:00-2:00  David phlox, just pushing out of the ground, have spread in this area.  Their white blossoms, on tall stems, are very mildew resistant, and the butterflies love them.

1:00  Honeysuckle, its proper name long forgotten, stretches up the tree.  This one has dark pink and yellow blossoms.

12:00-9:00  Lily of the Valley will appear here soon; one of them has poked its way out of the ground about 1/2".  Nothing can match their fragrance.

9:00-6:00  A variety of irises will brighten this niche.

Barley was planted in the sun in front of the garage, and we both listened as 2 hawks make wide circles around the house, calling loudly to each other.

When it comes to perfect days, I can't do anything about the weather, but there are things I can influence.  I find encouragement from an old Puritan prayer:

May I speak each word as if my last word, 

and walk each step as if my final one.   

If my life should end today, let this be my best day.

Harbinger of Spring

At my neighbor's house yesterday, when I had finally quit looking for one, I saw my first Harbinger of Spring of 2011.  I'm not referring here to harbingers in the general sense of the word, but to a tiny plant, the first wildflower I see every spring, the one labeled in the wildflower books by that name.  I looked for this flower early in the spring for years before I realized that the pictures in the books were magnified about 8 times and they had been right under my nose all along.  The flowers are quite diminutive; each petal about 1/16".  Their stems can grow to about 6 inches; the one pictured here is 3 inches tall.  

Spring Preview

Three weeks ago, on a day when I was especially longing for spring, I cut some dogwood branches and brought them inside.  I put them in water in a pottery vase on the dining room table.  The buds were tiny, and so tightly closed that it seem unlikely that anything special would come of them.  But, as I've discovered in the past, dogwoods aren't especially fussy about being forced.  They're starting to open now, and I can watch a small preview of spring every time I walk past the table.
 

Night Skies

There have been some clear night skies lately, displaying the Big Dipper, its ladle pointing toward the north, Orion high in the south, and in between, a profusion of glimmering points of light.

Don brokered a house sale recently to a couple from the big city.  Their 23 year old son had come along to help them move.  They arrived after dark and were moving some of their belongings off the truck when the son called to his mother, "Mom, come over here, you've got to see this."  She joined him in a cleared area, and followed his gaze.  Then, sucking in her breath, she exclaimed in amazement, "The stars!  I've never seen so many stars!"

In college I had a class called Bible Introduction.  In addition to our class work, our much loved professor gave out a somewhat unusual assignment.  Sometime during the course of the semester, students were to find a safe place out in the country, far from the city lights, and on a clear night (which was a challenge in Oregon) lay on the ground for 1/2 hour, watching the stars, and focus their attention on God.  I think it was a good exercise, and mostly I remember feeling very small in the presence of the One who made it all.

 He who made the Plieades and Orion,

who turns blackness into dawn,

and darkens day into night, the Lord is His name.

Amos 4:13

And these are but the outer fringe of His works;

How faint the whisper we hear of Him!

Who, then can understand the thunder of His power.

Job 26:14