ANTICIPATION

The light of day has been peeking through the bedroom window
earlier these past few days, and lingering longer before the
dark of night appears.
When I take my afternoon walk, I hear loud and clear a
chorus of birds chirping from their nests,
nestled in tall  pine trees -
and see a snow white rabbit hippity hop
across the thawing field; Each of us anticipating
the changing season and  warmth of Spring.

IN THE END

For many Christians Ash Wednesday begins the first day of  Lent - a time set aside by the church  for the faithful to repent, and reflect on the passion of Christ  that ultimately leads  to His glorious resurrection on Easter morning.

From a  very young age I remember attending Ash Wednesday services and having  the parish priest  mark   my forehead   with blessed ashes   while he intoned the passage from scripture, " From ashes you came, to ashes you shall return".  I must admit, it wasnt't until I was older and gained spiritual maturity that I understood this practice was to remind us of our own  immortality.  A rather sobering thought.

 Perhaps that's one reason so many of us study geneology, Scrapbook, blog and journal; Even try to connect with others on Face Book, My Space and pursue certain long lasting  endeavors.  It's an effort to  be remembered, to leave something of ourselves on this earth after we're no longer here. But in the end,   it won't mean a thing what we leave behind,only how we've lived our life; Loving, sharing, caring. Believing in God, trusting in our Maker.

Glorious Handiwork

I sat on the old log swing today, gently swaying back and forth and  saw a different view of the lake from yesterday and the day before. It was a   calm, tranquil water,  deep gray  in color;  Shaded light to dark, a single  ray of pearly white  separating the two. The sky overhead , a lovely robin egg blue.

The ground all around was muddy and wet, not from melting snow like last year and the year before, but from every day February  rain .  The rocky , rounded terrain close to the rim is covered with  green moss. I've never walked the moors of  Scotland, but imagine this is what they might look like.

After a while, I stop the motion of the swing and sit  perfectly still.  I heard no sound, only the quiet all about me. Not a wisp of breeze, the tall trees stand silent, unmoving - like guardsmen at the  Queen's gate.

Beautiful. Serene. I ponder the natural artistry that surrounds me,  and am moved to pray out loud and joyously proclaim David's psalm from of old , " The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims His handiwork".

PERFECT RELECTION

 I started  off walking  at my leisure today, criss crossing down the hill to the old log swing. Once there  and seeing the view of the lake and how it  perfectly reflected  the clouded sky,  I was immediatley awed and    loudly inhaled, as one might gasp when pleasantly surprised.  I wanted to take a picture and was frustrated I left my camera at the house ; The best I could do was   turn around and  hurry back   as fast as I could towards home to grab  the Nikon. So that's what I did.  

A short time later , with sore knees and labored breath, I  returned  to the swing  to get my  picture; To capture forever the  natural beauty my eyes beheld.

The separation of earth and sky seemed to oblivate and melt into one.  Only the slow passage of a single  small boat seemed to differenciate where one ended and the other begun.  I couldn't help but ponder if the captain and his crew saw what I saw, and was reminded of  Field's  Dutch Lullaby " Wynken, Blynken, and Nod".

A WALK IN THE WOODS

Most  of  the morning, into early afternoon I sat at my PC placing  ads  on the Internet to help promote our HealthQuest Nutrition web site (www.healthquestnutrition.com); not a difficult task, but time consuming and tiring.

After spending two hours on one site writing copy , trying (unsuccessfully) to upload a picture and hitting a key to continue, only to lose the page due to some kind of input error,  I finally had enough. I  threw my hands up and  shouted  a few unsavory expletives.  In a few minutes I  turned my head towards the window to  see two deer standing near; The openness, the freedom of the outside calling me forward.

My response was immediate. I got up from my chair, slipped on my North Face fleece, grabbed my Patagonia light weight rain jacket and knit gloves then headed out the front door. The early days of February are still cool, but no mounds of snow like last year and the year before; Only soft, muddy ground from too much rain and no sun.

For me, whatever the weather, walking in Dobbs' Woods always cheers me and makes me glad. I think about the pilgrim wanderers of Walden's Pond and Muir Woods and wonder about their delight in seeing the breath and bounty of the land in all its natural grandeur. This day I traverse back and forth across the treed slope , forging my own path to the ragged rim overlooking Rockford Bay. The low laying clouds and pastel colors highlighting portions of the lake make it appear other worldly; Mystical. I breath in the cool, fresh air and am awed by its beauty.

Coppery looking pine needles and broken tree limbs from winter winds are scattered across the wet earth; tiny sprouts of green grass have started to push forth, hoping for spring.

A few days ago I observed what I thought were cougar tracks on the long rock road leading to our home, so I keep my eyes downward, searching the ground to see what I might find; Sometimes even kneeling to get a closer look. Nothing out of the ordinary,though. Only the usual deer and dog prints.

It is quiet. Still. The only sound , the clicking of my camera lens when I stop to take a picture. I'd like to linger, hike another trail, but it'll be getting dark soon so I turn and head back. No longer frustrated or feverish with angst, but refreshed and relaxed.