Just last week I was roaming Teelside camera in hand looking for lingering signs of spring. Changing seasons always call out to be recorded. And for good reason: no two sets of seasonal photos are the same...similar, but not the same. Flowers take turns; one year the daffodils and iris excel, the next year the peonies outshine them all. Trees and shrubs also change from year to year. Like children they stretch out and mark their own place with larger shadows.
Without question, the best part of Spring in every passing is the birdsong of morning. My head rarely lingers upon the pillow beyond dawn, so addicted am I to the sound of it. It is a long-lived tether; a link from early childhood when I woke in my grandparent's farmhouse to birds that seemed to be singing through megaphones. The joy returns as clear reflections of those long ago mornings wash over me with each new morn sixty years hence. God is good.
Back to the photo journal...all at once the camera lens caught more shades of summer than spring. Everything was summer green with only faint illusion to the tender tones of April. May slips away quite quickly when temperatures soar and humidity hangs over the meadow. I sigh and say goodbye to another budding season.
It is NOT imagination that marks the flying calendar gathering speed with age. It's happening. I've noted as well that the green, green hills of summer are observed with more acute awareness, distinct definition. Awareness is a blessing - God is good.
Visiting time after yesterday's church services took us to shut-ins - a gentleman suffering at home with advanced cancer, a sweet little bird of a lady 'trapped' in a rehab center with a broken hip. These dear folks are by circumstance deprived of birdsong, sunlight and blossoms beckoning in gentle breezes. Perhaps their hearts store pictures of like beauty and they are comforted by their remembrance even among the vicissitudes of life. I do hope so. Along with that, may our brief presence reflect a refreshing breath of loving Son-light for their keeping.