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

False Alarm

The sound of coyotes woke me in the middle of the night, their voices overlapping into an eerie chorus.  

When they quieted, I could hear insect music streaming through the window on the cool night air.  

This is not an ordinary summer.

Usually, by this time of year, the only sound we hear at night is the air conditioner, 

and chipmunks, who all quake in their dens at sound of the coyotes, rarely venture out in the heat.

This week has been deliciously cool, and chipmunks spend the mornings outside, 

the little ones staging mock battles and looking for food.

I watched one on the deck, going about his business until suddenly he put on the brakes,

 startled by what was before him.

It was a carpendar ant, made in Mexico of stones and metal.  

It set up shop on our deck several years ago and has been working away quite diligently ever since.

Apparently, his saw is rather dull, because he's still working on the same piece of wood he started on when he came.

Fortunately for the chipmunk, the ant is far too preoccupied to represent much of a threat.  

And we're going to leave him be, because we can't wait to see what he's making.



Linking with Saturday's Critters

Crazy Clouds

On my list of the most amazing things I've witnessed in nature, right near the top, not far down from the meteor storm that Don and I watched from the bed of the pickup parked high on an Ozark hilltop, were the crazy clouds that filled the sky here 4 years ago.

A couple of friends and I had spent the morning picking blueberries at Eckart's Farm in Dora, Missouri.  Engrossed in our conversation and the treasures at our fingertips, we didn't even notice the sky until we were almost ready to leave.  It looked quite threatening, and we hurriedly paid for our produce and headed for home.

Along the way, dark waves of clouds filled the sky and it was hard to keep my eyes on the road.  We were certain that some wild weather was apon us, but after a few raindrops, the clouds blew away.

We learned on the news that night that the clouds had stretched as far as Springfield, Missouri, about 75 miles from here, and possibly even farther.  They are a rare form of cloud, called Undulatus Asperatus.  This photo was taken from the bridge at Tecumseh, Missouri, over the headwaters of Norfork Lake.

Do you know how the clouds hang poised, those wonders of Him who has perfect knowledge?

         Job 37:16



Linking to Skywatch Friday