Saturday I awakened to a six o'clock blackness--quiet and full of promise. Expectant adventure. Painted heavens. Monet light. Refreshed peony petals, awash in morning dew. Prairie walk of wonders.
Unfathomable glory in a morning nature walk. I so wish the rest of my family could experience the wonder, see the glory, understand my crazy nature notions. Guess I'm too much like my dad - lovin' the land, inhaling the fragrance of farm.
My older daughters have the stars of shiny city lights in their eyes. I remember that age when all I wanted was the fast-paced excitement of busy streets, exotic restaurants and entertainment choices. Experience has changed all of that; maybe it's the face of a life learned. Something heard from afar; beauty all around.
Experience has gone beyond--grown into something sacred--wonder, awe, contentment, peace.
Splendor and majesty are before Him, Strength and beauty are in His sanctuary (Psalms 96:6 NASB).
Even one of our cats enjoyed the tall grasses--hiding, stalking, playing. Glassy eyes pointed on its prey. Ringed tail at attention, saluting the dawn.
Criss-crossing hillsides dotted with Spring flowers--iris, nameless, nomad wild flowers, and pink prairie roses blushing as they meet the sun.
Then there are the fragile, fairy blues. Each Spring their spindly feathery stems take flight among the grasses and each year my feeble attempts at capturing their glory for the digital world falls short. The blue fades, the wind blows, something distracts from their magic. This year . . . well, you decide.
It continues to be an exercise in patience. hhmmm? But despite their ever-frustrating behavior, I persevere because something tells me the pursuit of grace is all worth it.
It's another step of walking through daybreak.
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