August 12, 2012
Two Yearling Deer Still Showing Their Spots
Last week we were surprised to look up and see the two yearlings that were born last spring standing and looking into our windows. So beautiful and white spots of being a fawn, still showing on their young bodies. It must have been the same doe that took a stroll last year through my gardens with twins also. She was near by as we glanced up the hill she came quickly down and brought them to her and they disappeared up the hill again. Nature is so breath taking surrounding us with life blessing memories. Nature can almost break your heart too, like this summer as I watched the gardens dry up and turn brown instead of their vibrant greens. What did survive, was stunted and yet nature went on, the almost dead plants would put up a blossom while the leaves were curled and dying. Propagating was their job and they did it to the end.
Yellow daises without their petals because of the draught |
July was like an eternal bad dream as day after day unwound in 100 degree heat and when it hit 80 degrees it was like heaven. I witnessed the cracked earth wounded and wanting. I often wondered where God was.
But as before in the drought of 1988 it finely ended and the memories have already faded into the thanksgiving pouring out like the rain that has ended this also here in Central Wisconsin.
Our granddaughter and 9 other students
played in the city's Symphony band concert this summer .
The band plays once a month at a city park in the open air. We come with our own seating arrangements and enjoy the lovely concert that lasts a couple hours. The members of the band are all local artists from the surrounding area we live in. Our grand daughter Katelyn was chosen along with 9 other students to play with them that night. Katelyn is a very talented trumpet player. Such joy to experience the whole night of music.
Katelyn, standing, getting her music in place before they started to play |
Christie another granddaughter showing her hanky pillow she made out of antique hankie |
Dick's metal art in my gardens |
His Whisper by Faye F. McLain
Listen to His whisper riding on the wind.
Stirring and calling us from our hearts within.
Gentle is the touch of the Father's Hands,
Guiding and changing us so we'll understand
The directions set before us, with His goal to reach,
A willingness to be touched so others will teach,
We are the clay that's laid in the potter's hands.
Our lives He'll shape for His glory across the lands,
A vessel to be used for His purpose by His grace.
Knowing, when our time is done here, we'll see our Savior's face."
I love her writing but do not remember who sent me this poem or where it came from, but it certainly uses nature and our Great Creator to express this beautiful poem. Thanks to Faye F. McLain!!