The heavens tell of the glory of God. The skies display his marvelous craftsmanship.
Day after day they continue to speak;
night after night they make him known.
They speak without a sound or a word; their voice is silent in the skies;
yet their message has gone out to all the earth, and their words to all the earth.
Psalm 19: 1-4 NLT
Clouds, exquisite displays in the heavens; writing beauty in the sky.
Memories of childhood days long forgotten can be stirred to the surface sometimes by a simple thing. This one came from a brief exchange remembering the early days when Mom went back to work. A kind lady several houses down the street from ours watched our younger sister after kindergarten till we got home from our schools. I remembered that she sometimes had a simple treat to offer me – sugared butter bread!
As I thought about her house with its broad front porch complete with swing and its bright, cheery kitchen, a snatch of song came. As I waited on it, the song seemed to come from the old record player in her living room and I stepped back in time listening.
Tra-la-la, tweedlee dee dee it gives me a thrill
To wake up in the morning to the mockin’ bird’s trill
Tra-la-la, tweedlee dee dee There’s peace and goodwill
You’re welcome as the flowers on Mockin’bird Hill
“Mockingbird Hill”. I loved that song and the cheerfulness of it all, imagining storybook cottages as I twirled about. Today, as I queued it up to play, I realized that I live that girlish dream!
It’s all different and yet the same and my heart is filled with gladness.
I wish you peace and goodwill from our hill in the country where Mockingbirds sing and nest outside our window.
Early morning view — a little ritual of each day — to look and see the wonder of the sky first thing.
The sun comes up and washes the butterfly bush in light and they come and drink deeply.
And then, in the middle of the day, they come…having no shame, they come and taunt me with their presence, reminding me of the havoc they wrecked in the gardens through the night. Boldly lapping even the birds’ seed from the feeder. Huffing at my complaint. Think me mean if you will but I cannot love them.
Many years my older sister gifts me with a lovely perennial plant to try in my garden. Last year she found one with my name. How fun is that? The name of this beauty is “Dublin Elaine” which is rather a play on words as the flower itself is a double and it is also considered a re-bloomer – a double season. This daylily is now blooming after most of the others have finished so it is quite spectacular showing off its fancy ruffled edges in the mostly green border.
I caught this bloom today in early morning sun; so beautiful!
Such beauty for only a few hours and then gone. This year the day lilies have had quite a bloom season. Each day in the garden is so different. I have found it very difficult to photograph this red Pardon Me, but this light was about perfect for it. So many bloom stalks and buds this year will make it a joy for some time yet.
This blosson just looks so happy to be spending itself for its Creator’s pleasure.
The last of the Gentle Shepherd blooms for this year, so exquisite!
The common orange daylily. Common only because they are plentiful; this orange is always a welcome sight along the highways and I tuck some along the edges of the hedgerow here. One somehow got to be front and center in the daylily bed where it makes quite a statement and makes me smile.
The Stella D’Oro’s are finished for now. I hope they will re-bloom this year, they don’t always.
Consider how the wild flowers grow. they do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.Luke 12:27
Earth’s crammed with heaven,
and every common bush afire with God;
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Recently I read this post by Chuck Summers on his need to take photographs. I felt a kindred spirit as I too can feel a need to step outside even just my kitchen door and capture something wonderful – a blossom, a darkening sky, a tendril, a bird or squirrel – reminders that one day is never the same as the one before nor is an hour or even a minute.
And bees do not always sleep in a hosta bloom.
Everything can change in an instant. Possibilities abound! Somehow, entering into the world of photography in my small way enables me to engage my whole day with different eyes. As Chuck Summers says, “There is something extremely therapeutic about spending time in the midst of God’s Creation.”
And at the end of day, I sense the words we sang at every campfire closing –
Day is done, gone the sun
From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky
All is well, safely rest
God is nigh.
Amen
Summer holidays always take me back to the river shore places… sisters and brother and cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents…fishing, crabbing, floating, sunbathing, picnics, grilling, ice cream treats… Today I thought I would share some photos from the past before mine, in the good old summertime!
Getting out into the countryside…I can see the water in the background…well dressed for the day’s outing! And yes, those do look like mugs of beer!
I love this photo of Great Aunt Annie. I never knew her but everyone spoke so highly of her kindly disposition, I’m sure I would have liked her very much. I particularly enjoy this photo of her in a row boat, so erect and holding her beaded handbag!
Dramatic entertainment circa 1919 – the Ladies Bowling Club Outing.
One of my grandfathers had a shore place on the Bird River. Nothing fancy…two bedrooms, living room, outhouse and a separate summer kitchen. Need water? There was a pump. Who needed anything more? Friends and family filled the place every weekend.
Another favorite of mine – my dad on the left in the only beach attire I remember – fully dressed, including shoes! Going fishing, crabbing? We would push the rowboat up to the pier and he would step down into it and off we would go. Never mind my sister and I had bare feet while he dropped the crabs into the boat bottom. They would scurry into the corners or under the seats while we sat cross legged fearing for our toes!
Watermelon! Cantaloupe! Cherries! Peaches! Plums! Blueberries! Blackberries!
All in the good old summertime! Enjoy your summertime!
Things seemed very quiet when I opened the door around 6 am. Then Momma Wren showed up and breakfast was delivered, and received with the usual enthusiasm!
Then I noticed one of the nestlings at “the door”. I decided to go out and sit near in case this was The Day.
I didn’t have long to wait! What a thrill to watch first one and then another fly about seven feet into the oakleaf hydrangea! The next youngster was unceremoniously pushed by the eager one behind him and down they both fluttered into the shrubbery and then took a short flight into another hydrangea nearby. Such a privilege to watch the story unfold!
I know, they all look alike! But this one seemed more chubby. And reluctant to leave the nest. Mom coaxed with chatter and a bit more breakfast but it was back and forth to the doorway.
Then I watched amazed as its siblings flew up onto the tree trunk and join the chatter of encouragement! You can see the tiny one on the trunk while mom sits on the roof top.
Five to ten minutes of indecision and then flight! And the nest is empty.
Chatter continued through the day and from the lower level windows we see the parents feeding their fledglings gathered in the branches and stems of the hydrangea. I’ve read that the parents will continue to feed the young for about two weeks.
And finally the quiet of late evening after such an exciting day! In the many years we have had bird houses, I’ve never seen any actually fledge before. Such an exciting day for me too!
House Wrens nest each year in this tiny house hanging in the magnolia tree. Their cheerful song seems larger than such a small bird could sing. The rains have kept me from the gardens lately so I didn’t realize till just yesterday that they have a full house. The chatter of the hungry young while they wait and their eager greetings of their hunter parents is also very loud. The more food, of course, the quieter things become. When the meal service is done, I hear the parents again singing cheerfully from a branch in the tree. Lucky them, no kitchen clean-up!
I’ve been doing a lot of waiting lately. Waiting in designated waiting rooms. I’m at a loss to understand why medical facilities feel the need to blare stressful programing at those waiting long waits. How much nicer if they might offer water or coffee or tea, or soothing classical music to feed the hungry soul.
Do you wait well? What helps you to wait?
The white blossom seemed like an explosion of petals, its golden heart glowing in the early morning light. 
Then later, pink blooms open and I blink memory seeing little girl tutus in the frills. 