Chilly, finally, after the unusually warm weather we’ve been having. The earth was wet from rain in the night, temperature in the high 30s, so I had bundled up, and had pulled on gloves for the trek to the lake, even though it is hard to handle Winston and the camera while wearing gloves. Lake Gregory was spectacular, and as I often do, I thought I don’t come down here enough. Before the day was over, rain pelted our woods, and our yards, and soft, watery snow fell in its typical silent way.
How did God make all this? Did He sit down somewhere–a kind of creation studio–and consider the varieties of trees, flowers, leaf shapes, stone colors, animal faces, ocean volume, sand for the deserts, whiskers and noses . . .?
I saw that several large trees have been felled near the lodge. Why? Were they diseased, or just somehow in the way or . . .? I have friends who have recently danced about with death, some even at this moment are dodging and weaving, and I have a sense of its dreadfulness, and that the cutting down of life smacks of pain and decay, and we don’t like it.
“How many want to go to Heaven today?” Nathaniel’s little five-year-old voice boomed from the upstairs area as we sat around in the living room with guests. No one answered, so that little grandson of mine asked again, “How many want to go to Heaven today?” We adults–Christians, ministers–grinned, looked at each other, and decided none of us wanted to go today. Strange, huh? Or not?
I bought this plant a few months ago at the 99 cent store. It had no name placard, nor any way to identify the plant. It has flourished in a pot set in the lower part of our back yard here in Crestline, CA.
Can anyone identify this magnificent specimen?
Yesterday, hard rain struck our earth here in Crestline, frigid cold enveloped our land, and then hail pebbles by the thousand pelted our decks and our gardens.
Today, I walked among the invigorated plants where I saw that water drops still lipped on the edges of some of them. Last fall I stuffed a tub that sets on the side planter with bulbs. Today, an Iris is open. Another is a splendid promise.
My only one, Rebecca. The best daughter anyone could want. We spent Independence Day together down by the lake.
This afternoon I observed a critter strolling across one of our pear blossoms. Actually I believe there were a couple sauntering about.
Our pear tree is in full bloom. A magnificent sight.
After I had staggered down our driveway to retrieve the newspaper and to take pictures of the daffodils and our house and was heading back to the stairs inside the garage, I looked east and saw this magnificent view. I was freezing as the temperature was in the 20s, but it was so beautiful . . .stark. . . that stretch of branch . . .