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Archive for the ‘Nature’s Beauty’ Category

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Our temperature has been right at a scorching 100°F for about three weeks now. When our friends ask us, “Have you been on your bikes lately?,” our response has been “No, it is too hot!”

Tonight, my husband handed me my bike keys, “I think we need to at least start them.”

As soon as I heard the engines running I wanted to ride.

We took off without a plan, “Let’s head east.”

What was east? We did not know.

After the first 20 minutes we were out of the city and still did not know where “heading east” was on the map.

We kept going…and going.

After a while, my husband pulled off the road “Are you okay? Wanna’ keep going?”

“Yes! I am having the time of my life.”

I was hot and I felt dehydrated, but the feeling of freedom was incredible. I wear a helmet, but this sense of elation could very well be described as the wind in my hair.

I thanked God for the beautiful countryside.

I wanted to etch the scent of fresh mown grass, and of corn being harvested, in my head.

The crazy goats that looked up from their evening hay were an image I will not soon forget. We could have ridden by all day, made several trips in succession, and the goats would still stretch their necks and ears in airplane position, with “surprise” written in their expressions.

The cows with coats that looked like velvet chocolate. Lazily grazing with calves at their side.

Thank you God for reminding me to enjoy the gifts that you’ve made for us.

We stopped at a convenience store. We didn’t know where we were. I was not ready to turn back.

After quenching our thirst, hi-ho away we went, to an unknown destination in the east.

By this time the air felt cool as we passed under trees along shaded creeks. The countryside filled with the heavenly scent of dusk that mirrored the gorgeous sunset.

Two hours.

Time well spent. Heading east to nowhere.

Food for the soul.

 

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God's voice through colors, God's colors

It had been a trying week. After I arrived home from work I took a drive to a second-hand shop to peek around for a couple of small end-of-week rewards … a token to hold in my hands, and the other a gift of unwinding by myself.

As I drove back home with air conditioning blasting in my face and with my foot heavy on the accelerator I noticed other cars sharing the road had their windows down. They, unlike many city Texan drivers, seemed to be on a slow meander. I said, “What is up with that?” I eased off of the speed and followed suit as I pushed the button to roll down the glass. A glorious cool breeze wafted in, and then I saw it.

God’s pallet unfolded before my eyes. Sunset filled with a rainbow of colors. No need for sunglasses. The glare was gone, and in its wake were the most beautiful deep and profound colors that I believe I have ever observed.

It soothed my soul,  and I whispered as a tear escaped my eye, “Oh Father, I see your beauty. There is no other that could have made this. Your colors speak, and Father, I praise you. I love you.”

I find it to be no coincidence that man reports these colors to hold meaning and significance:

  • Gold – complete and pure
  • Orange – energy combined with happiness
  • Pink – unconditional love and nurturing
  • Purple – imagination
  • Blue – depth and stability

Whether it be through a rainbow after a storm pulls out, or through the promise of rest that follows the prism of sunset, God speaks his words of life.

 

 

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jumbo puppy www.hispasturepressDiesel and I were secured in the dog park when I heard a little voice squeal with delight, “Look mom, a jumbo puppy!” He did not see a chunky wrinkle-faced bulldog, he saw a jumbo puppy! The tiny boy clung to the chain link fence with intent, with nothing short of delight in his eyes. A memory formed in the boy’s mind that instant, the days he saw a tiger-striped chubby dog that strolled in a rolling motion and snorted as he went.

This notice of simple pleasure reminded me to treat today, every day, as the best day ever.

To see life through the eyes of a child.

The sun suddenly became brighter. Blue deepened from horizon to horizon. Clouds fluffed. Air freshened.

This coffee mug that sits within my reach holds not just any ordinary beverage and it is not of a simple design. It is painted with bright hues of red, blue, yellow, and green. I could be drinking it on a veranda, admiring the beautiful Hill Country. I see it. Do you? The coffee is perfectly steamy, with just a touch of vanilla…and something else that I do not recognize. Smooth. This is why they call it Texas Pecan. Today, I let it linger over my tongue. I enjoy every…single…drop.

As I prepare for my day, I am not simply dressing. I am staging my day with color. Today is a deep blue day…from turquoise to navy, with a touch of clay. I am choosing from the box of crayons of life once again. Is it periwinkle, or sea foam green? Perhaps it is tomato red tomorrow. Mountain meadow?

I am listening in these early morning hours to the hum of the refrigerator. I think of my grandmother’s large kitchen with her Formica topped table and white metal cabinets. The freezer and refrigerator filled with Missouri peaches and grandfather’s favorite salads. They also hummed away, holding the treasures from earth cold and fresh. The snoring buzz of the bulldog, the five-year-old jumbo puppy gives warmth to my heart. His eyes pop open now and then, but he is unconscious, the monkey. I hear the tapping of the keyboard. Happy sounds from my fingertips. Painting words on paper. This is not just the ordinary. This is life times one-hundred.

Hello world. I shake your hand. I hug your people. I embrace your beauty. I absorb what you, my Father, have surrounded my being with.

Today, I am who I am. I live in a “jumbo puppy” world.

This is the best day…ever.

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I silently eased the window open.

The world remained asleep in the muted morning light except for an occasional call from a bird.

www.hispasturepress.com dreamstime,douglassdickensThe fog had carried in cool air, filled with dampness in the river valley.

As a child might do, I quietly planted myself on the soft carpet below the window. I imagined a walk in the garden that lay before my eyes.

I wanted to take in a stroll, undisturbed, to fill my lungs with the scent of damp earth, to absorb the favor of tranquility, and to admire the green that my elder was so perfect at urging out of the ground.

If I woke her, grandmother would make herself busy with my breakfast. I would put up a protest without winning. The day would become active in a hurry. Alas, this was my time with nature, to admire it from my quiet spot, and this was her time to rest.

I squinted from my window seat. What was that orange ball in the back row of the garden? I had not noticed it the day before.

I drew my face in closer as I squinted in disbelief. Grandmother had never grown pumpkins before, and how would one emerge overnight?

She was a creature of habit, and pumpkin simply did not fit in. What new church recipe or canning adventure was she eager to try?

I noticed the movement in the back row of the garden. The orange ball stretched out a lazy leg, then another, followed by a head with erect feline ears.

The orange stood up and sauntered to the back porch where grandmother had left breakfast in a bowl.

My grandmother’s first garden pumpkin was content.

The world was at peace.

So was I.

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