Ponder This

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

Aftermath

The clouds burst their seams last night, and showers poured down long into the morning, accompanied by thunder and flashes of lightning.  Barley cowered by the bedside.  

At daybreak, residual moisture clothed the hills with mist.

By the time the hiking boots came out, Barley fears had been long forgotten, 

and he was as eager to get outside as I was.  Along the path, rivulets flowed into 

small waterfalls and down to the hollow to form a creek, which continued to the lake.  

Barley lowered himself into the chilly water, and, half submerged, pivoted slowly, 

taking in the whole scene.  

There, the rocky hollow, now bursting with new green, stretches outward to the hills.

When he emerged, Barley sidled up close and began shaking, splattering my jeans.  

He certainly meant well.  I think.

In whatever form it comes, we are grateful for the moisture and the One who sent it, 

the One who gave us life, and fills our hearts with joy.

Do the skies themselves send down showers?  

No it is You, Lord our God.

  Therefore our hope is in You, for you are the one who does all this.

  

Jeremiah 14:22 

Linking with Our World Tuesday

Prison With a View

It's pretty silly, I suppose, to be trapped in one's house by a turkey, 

but more than once lately, that's what has happened here.  

To the east of the house a gobbler will appear over the brow of the hill, 

often by the old leaning tree, his tail fanned into a perfect arch, 

his feathers displaying their iridescent sheen in the sunlight.  

He takes mincing steps, 

his eyes trained on the hens for whom his display is intended, 

and who, as usual, ignore him.  

We watch, fascinated again by the scene we've witnessed so often. 

Sooner or later, however, one has to leave the house.  

It might be easy to slip out the back. 

Well no, actually, the deer are browsing on the west side of the house, 

and we'd hate to disturb them.

So, up goes the garage door; there's a gobble, then strong wing flaps.

The turkeys clear the trees sail away.

They'll be back soon enough,

amazing us with their beauty.

and in the meantime, we're going to revel in our brief freedom.

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday
and Weekly Top Shot

Spring Gold

After a colorless winter,

 the earth heaves a sigh of relief;

  its breath rustles feathers, spins wildflowers into a dance, and stirs the dogwoods.

A chickadee examines a home in the dogwood tree;

  What could be nicer than a curtain of lacy white?

Gold finches, so drab in the winter,

have put their down jackets in mothballs,

 and now bid for attention as the males molt into their breeding colors...

and animate the forest with their brilliance.

There is gold in these hills,

not the kind of gold that many seek,

but warm and animated.

Who could ask for more?






Linking with Weekly Top Shot