Sometimes, it seems that I get very out-of-focused in reflection.
And everything turns topsy turvy.
There is only one way for me to right my mental world:
Finally, brothers and sisters, fill your minds with beauty and truth. Meditate on whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is good, whatever is virtuous and praiseworthy.
Filling my mind with beauty all around. What beauty have you found today?
There were always apples in the house. Dad took one every day with his lunch and there were apples for ours, if we wanted them. Come fall, there would be bushels of fresh picked from country orchards and sometimes pie for Sunday suppers. But my favorite memory of comfort food is always hot applesauce on buttered toast for breakfast.
These Gala apples cooked into a lovely sauce which has provided rich desserts of applesauce on split buttered biscuits. Simple fare, perfect comfort for darkening autumn evenings.
I like to use sweet apples so no additional sweetener is needed, just cinnamon or apple pie spice to suit my fancy.
As the sweet fragrance of apple filled the house, I remembered the grace sung at many a Girl Scout camp meal – The Johnny Appleseed Prayer.
Oh the Lord is good to me,
and so I thank the Lord,
for giving me the things I need,
the sun, the rain and the appleseed,
the Lord is good to me.
Amen!
For the beauty of the earth,
For the beauty of the skies,
For the Love which from our birth
Over and around us lies:
Christ, our God, to Thee we raise
This our Sacrifice of Praise.
Folliott S. Pierpoint
Last night’s storm left a slow-to-lift cloud cover. Waiting in traffic, I watched it hovering behind the communication and power lines that cross here. I thought about how sometimes mental or emotional dark clouds seem to hang like a backdrop for life and communication.
As I drove on, I remembered that as a child, stories and poetry gave me the impression of softness and comfort in clouds and then how shocked I had been on my first plane ride through clouds to find them anything but! Turbulence is hidden within.
Those are not cotton balls! Unseen turbulence swirls in all the beauty. Unseen turbulence swirls on earth these days too. It is unsettling to say the least. For your life, I pray that the storms pass and you will see the earth is refreshed, the air is cleared, and a beautiful day awaits you.
I stepped to the sidewalk at the library and an elusive fragrance met me there.
Forgotten and remembered then – the fragrance of crisp, fallen leaves.
Misty sunrises, dramatic sunsets, clouds in September skies
Nesting for fall
Crafting
Exploring the yard – any beyond
Receiving gifts
Yard cleanup silly
Anticipating October Drama
I had the opportunity to visit this garden again the other day. Frog and I had another quiet visit as he continued his work. 
The waters bubble and flow through a small waterfall to his pond. 
I love the serenity in this place, although perhaps it is not place exactly, but the intention to go and breathe deeply and just be present to the timeless wonder of plants and fish and sun in the summer breeze that brings tranquility. Do you see that bright green edge? Look deeply now… slide into the pool of green refreshment.
The day started too hot, too humid; the heavy still disturbed by cicadas calling.
A single blue hydrangea bloom glows; the extreme winter freeze caused the old blooming wood to die off many of the hydrangeas. 
By 5 pm, darkness had closed in, then thunder rolled and crashed across the sky chasing lightening flashes. I count the seconds between, marking the distance. I remember my parents’ front porch on the house at the top of the hill where I’d stake claim to the chaise and watch the storms rolling in from the west streak the sky with jagged lights and feel the gratitude of rain laden breezes cooling hot skin on summer evenings.
So I went outside and sat under cover and listened, quieting myself. In the midst of the storm the hummingbird came and drank and sparrows flew in for dinner too. None seemed concerned by the din or rain. Their Father had provided bloom and feeder and with that they were content. I went in and cooked our simple meal, it was delicious.
The rain continues; the air, 20 degrees cooler, refreshes.
I’ve been reading Bonnie Gray’s blog, Faith Barista, for a few years now. It was in her writings that I learned about “whitespace”; not an empty, mindless place but rather a set apart, intentional space to let my soul breathe and to nurture it in ways that are unique to me.
I could relate to Bonnie as she wrote of taking time in coffee shops or walking or even just sitting out of doors. Time to rest, to wait, to be inspired, to write. I knew this was a need in my life and with the encouragement of her words I began to be more intentional to experience this rest. I began to take my camera with me and make space in my life to see, sometimes being wonderfully surprised by what the lens would capture.
As time went on, Bonnie began to write this book and to deal with the additional trauma of PTSD, post-traumatic stress disease. Some of us have very broken places in our lives. We cover them well, for a time. As Bonnie is healing, she finished writing this book that not only shares her story but encourages me to took into living my own better story now by learning to care for my soul, to let it heal and to grow.
I could have just quickly read through the book and put it up on a shelf, but I’m committed to this journey with Bonnie. A journey to find healing and more rest for my soul. Each chapter ends with three things: first, a thoughtful place to “Pull up a Chair” and uncover pieces of my story and to journal, for as for Bonnie says, “words are more than ink on paper. They are the soul prints of God’s voice – carrying the unique timber of heaven-on-earth that only you can speak.” Then there are Whitespace prompts – think-about-its that challenge me, make me squirm about or get up restlessly and go dig in the garden or pull weeds or sleep and dream till the answers come, and a pause for rest comes in this journey to awaken my heart to be fully alive to God – where I can – just. be. me. Then the last thing that Bonnie suggests are conversation starters. Needful, ’cause Jesus and I haven’t talked much about many of these things.
One of the things that still holds my attention was the answer I realized to a question posed in chapter 2 – “What realities have I accepted living with for decades that have become immovable parts of my identity?” No, I’m not going to tell here. But perhaps it is a question you might like to consider for your own life?
Thanks for reading about this journey I am taking; if your soul might need breathing space, some rest or healing, come along! Here are links for more encouragement:
Again, Bonnie writes at http://www.faithbarista.com/ Her book is available here. A blog tour to read how others are experiencing “Awakening your soul to rest” can be found though the blog tour button on the right.
April seemed determined to linger on and on. She seemed sullen this year. Finally, on a clear day, the cleanup from February’s gift of ice was done and the overwhelming piles of broken limbs and down trees were gone. In the last moments of that very long day we had to decide where to dispose of the last of the pine logs. The crazy result is our new rustic bench.
You can’t tell from the photo, but it has been carefully placed among viburnum and dogwood to the back and sides. Ferns grow near and groundcover will fill in. In time, it will just be part of the growing forest floor. For added charm, I found another chunk of pine log for a plant table. I will post another photo when the “room” is more decorated!
I was sad that the tree, which already had considerable size over 40 years ago, was so damaged in the storm. But as I have found through the years, once removed, it is hard to really remember a tree for so much new fills the eye. The young dogwoods are just coming into bloom now and will become that new and different focal point on the hillside.
April did bring fresh greens and early wonder-full bloom. Bluebells, Bleeding hearts, Violets, Trollius and Vincas followed Jonquils and Lenten Roses.
And then, an almost spiteful ending came with pounding, relentless rain drowning the grounds and roads. After days and nights of storm, it was such a relief to change the calendar page on a sunny day and enjoy the beauty of lingering raindrops on growing leaves
The afternoon was spent keeping appointments. Then clouds came again and rain poured through sunlight. We were driving home, rounded a corner, came out of the woods and were startled by the beauty so poorly captured by camera. 
Rainbows! In them I see all the promises of compassion – grace and mercy – for the storms of life. I love them! Have you seen a rainbow lately?
