Yearly Spring Watch

   Every year I look forward to seeing the trees bud out, the first blossoms prepare to bloom, and the smell of the season change to reflect the earth’s soil melting the ice coat it has had all winter. Somehow each year I miss the moment when the season changes. Not the calendar date that marks when spring officially begins, but the actual moment when the leaves start sprouting and budded flowers start blooming. I think it must happen overnight in the blink of an eye. One moment, everything is still and cautious again late snowfalls and frosts. And then the next moment, caution is thrown aside and the leaves come out. Soon, the trees contain a haze of fresh green and the ground a landscape of littered leaf protectors.

   It seems that normally when the first day occurs that I am at work. The weather is perfect, a light breeze and the temperatures are not too high, and I’m stuck inside. So, this Sunday was such a wonderful anomaly. Sitting in a dark green plastic chair, with my feet propped up on a bright yellow children’s plastic slide I found myself sinking lower and lower as my mid section relaxed into the beautiful day. A book in hand, my Diet Pepsi sitting next to the chair’s legs, and the dogs wandering about the yard finding sticks to eat on – what a lovely way to kick off spring.

Christmas – Stars

   I’m not sure when the bug hit, but it has been part of me as long as I can remember. I would stare up at the stars in the sky with wonder and awe and enjoyment. As Christmas approached, my dad, being the tallest person in the house, would place the star on top of the tree. It was made of a foil material, shiny and metallic. When the lights around the room were turned out, the Christmas tree lights turned on, and it was dark outside, the room would suddenly become a reflective tapestry of light patterns. Little lines, made delicate against the walls with the white lights, would entertain me for hours. I remember lying in the floor with my family, just watching the lights.

   When I go out at night, my eyes still wander up. My jaw still drops when I see a floating trail of light stream across the sky. I smile when I see planets lighting up the sky like brilliant and perceptually tiny globes of fire. Little pin pricks of light form constellations. Stories combine together the light points to make up patterns, reasons and direction.
   The shepherds must have had quite a few that year in the hillsides around Bethlehem. There they were, watching their flocks, and perhaps gazing up at the sky. Not a sky blazoned with city fluorescent lights, but a dark sky that would have shown a milky way to take your breath away. They saw other things that night as well, angels came to the shepherds. Perhaps for years after, they looked up at the sky and remembered the bright lights, the beauty of the sky that night.

People Watching

   The coffee machine was wushing; there were the soft clinks of metal silverware striking porcelain plates. A Panini was in the back being pressed for me, and while I waited with great anticipation amidst wonderful smells, I took the opportunity to do a little people watching. It seemed like someone could write a fictional novel based off of those who came in that day. And perhaps a summary of their stories would go like:

   A student came in and chose coffee and dessert. An enormous smile was plastered on her face at the prospect of well flavored caffeine and sugar. Soon, her friend joined her and they walked with the flip flop heel popping sounds to their table. It was one of the last little vestiges of summer freedom before school started back again. Freedom was slipping away and this student was thoroughly enjoying it.
   The lightly pressed black pants and tailored blouse spoke her professional status. Rounded toe heels created a nice swing of the hem. The haircut was modern, neatly falling about in short layers. Her menu choices seemed to speak of calorie counting, until the large coffee creation with cream came out. I imagined that she was heading into a series of afternoon meetings that were going to be draining and needed the boost to make it through.
   His hair was showing grey under felted brown hat, blue jeans, and loafers spoke his comfort. A newspaper on the table, a cup of coffee in hand, everyone seemed to know this fellow. The regular, whose order is known by his face as he walks in. Familiar conversations and jokes were shared back and forth over the sputtering of the milk being steamed.
   Two women sat at a table, deep in conversations. This was not the quick lunch time conversation of two co-workers, but the conversation of two friends. They were relaxed with each other, tasting their lunches and then comparing notes. They showed no signs of leaving, enjoying the sunny day and the shady spot at the table instead.
   A little girl in a summer dress was brought in by a mother. She took in all of the foods displayed with wide eyes and a quiet, but eager face. This was a big moment for this long haired twirly dress girl. She looked around, perhaps scoping out which food she wanted. Her mother ordered and they left for a table. She clung closely to her mother’s jeans, but with time will be off exploring on her own.

Winged Neighbor

It is a two story house with blue siding. On my way from work to my car, I can see they have a tiny little neighbor who has taken up residence on the second story windowsill. A morning dove has staked out a little territory and built herself her own home addition. She is there every time I pass the house, sitting on her nest.

I would have such a hard time not bothering her if she were on my window sill. I would want to watch and feed her. Oh, and of course she would have a name. There would also probably be a good five hundred pictures of her as well.
I wonder what the dove sees during the day. As she looks down from her little home, there would be cars and people walking. Children bicycling and skateboarding up and down the sidewalk as they enjoy the last little bit of summer might not even notice their quiet dark eyed observer. Some of the residents at the adult assisted living apartments walk this block as part of their daily routine. As they stroll past, do they notice the quiet tucking of wings? It’s like a little reminder of guardian angels that we have tucked into our own lives that we don’t even notice.
I love the little addition that has been built on that house. What a wonderful neighbor!

Nonsensical Trio

Okay – I warn you upfront, today is just a nonsensical bit of writing. It’s just the way I look at the world.

There are lots of animals that live in the back yard. The live in the front yard too, but the dogs seem to think that they are really only allowed to live in the back yard and bark at them until they resume living in their appropriate space. A rabbit lives in the yard with a little white furry stripe on his rump. I love that it makes him, Peter Rabbit, so easily identifiable. When he was just a tiny thing, he liked to come close and listen to people talk. I’m not kidding, he would sit just a few feet away and if you kept talking and didn’t move to suddenly, he would be quite happy to just hop right around you. Perhaps he was trying to English through immersion. Yesterday morning, Peter Rabbit, now much older and quite grown up, was in the front yard. The dogs of course were announcing that the “attack bunny” was out of his space and should be chased back to the back yard. I went out and tried to shoo him away rather than just opening the door and let the dogs go into their flight of fancy. “The big woofy woofy dogs are coming out; you need to move along someplace safer.” I swear that rabbit pfft’d at me and then hopped quite preciously back into the back yard.
Three crows have also taken up residence in the last few days. I like their substantial size and the way that they seem to just soak in the light around them and be velvety in the shade and shiny in the sun. There was just one, and being in the yard for a short time leads to an animal having a name. They must have names. So, I was thinking Whitman. But, then two other crows showed up and I am at a complete loss as to what to call them.
Deer like to gather in in the evening, eating corn and seed. Mainly though, the dark faced doe who stands and eats corn, with little corn bits stuck to her nose. She is beautiful, sleek and shiny and looks so healthy. She watches in the window from her dinner buffet place. I wonder if she wonders about us, if she is observing us as we observe her.
They are beautiful to watch, taking on characteristics of their own. Personality abounds in these furry creatures who live here.

SHHHHH!!!!

I have never been someone who craves quiet. In fact, I really do not study well at libraries, the quiet just leads me to get distracted and then there are the books – way too much distraction! About 6 months ago, I attended my Great Banquet, Peoria Women’s Great Banquet #14. It was a wonderful experience and one that I continue to cherish and learn from.

One of the most profound things for me was that I finally learned to seek out and enjoy the quiet and solitude of moments, moments that are all too rare. It was in this experience of listening to God, learning to be quiet, that I found how much I enjoyed the time to slow down.
So, this weekend while my mother was at her Great Banquet, I was at a nearby state park. With no obligations, waiting chores, to do’s, or places to be, I found myself sitting on a tree bent over a pond and listening to the buffalo. I love how they sound, their snorting and grunts, their breathing and sighing. I must have sat at that spot for twenty minutes, taking a few occasional pictures, but mainly just listening and watching.

There is so much to do in this life, so many wonderful things to see. With so much to say, partake in, and get done, it can be very easy to put off the quiet times. Oh, I’ll get to that later and one thought pushing another out of my brain and poof – it’s gone.

I wonder how much I really miss of what God is trying to tell me just because of my inability to be quiet, to sometimes just slow down and be. I know I need sleep for energy, need food for fuel, need exercise for strength, but my time with God – that is my solace and energy, fuel, and strength! I will seek out other times in the future when I can just go and be quiet, listening to the same creator who made those beautiful buffalo.

Take Me Back to the Black Hills

There is a little town in South Dakota, with one main street though town. A great little coffee shop slash steak place sits on one corner and a grocery store on the other. Up the road is a state park with buffalo herds, some beautiful lakes, and many antelope.

Sometimes my schedule gets busy, as it does with all of us, and I start wishing for a cabin out there in that park. With a good cup of coffee in the morning, a dollop of creamer, in a travel mug in one hand and my camera in the other. Waiting till the sun comes up, enjoying the sunshine, and the mist of the morning starts rising among the Needles Highway. Perched on a look out or a shelter bench, I want to just sit and sip my coffee, listening to the morning. Then, later in the day as the sun approaches the mid-point and the heat rises, I could head to Sylvan Lake and walk on the shore. Smelling pine, enjoying the feel of rock and moss as I climb over them to rejoin the trail, covered in pine needles. Buffalo appear from the groves of tree and move through in herds. Slowly, they appear to plod along and move with an ungainly gate, until they run. Then, their bulk is revealed to be powerful strength. Sometimes I want to watch, observe, sit in the quiet and soak in the stillness of removing the extra distractions around me.

In the quiet, when I can be still long enough to give all the cogs in my head to slow down, that is when I find myself feeling that I can really hear from God. It’s not that God isn’t speaking or isn’t present the other times, it’s just that my distractions make it hard to hear. It’s kind of like trying to carry on a very quiet conversation at a rock concert – it just doesn’t work. So, when my life gets busy or when it starts feeling like I need to get away, I dream of the park outside of that town in South Dakota.

Have Mercy

The pinchy shoe moment has ended. Jesus and the disciples have packed up and are leaving Jericho, with a large crowd following behind.


And though in my mind I have pictured some sort of gigantic van, I know that they didn’t have on at that time and were walking. Walking along, two men are sitting by the roadside, blind. Sitting there, passersby might have taken pity on them and helped to meet a need.

If you ever cover your eyes with a scarf and try to operate for a while, you may notice that your other senses start to grow sharper. Hearings, smell, taste, touch all start compensating for the loss of sight. So imagine these two men, sitting on that road. Perhaps the sun was out that day and they were feeling heat, listening to the sounds of people passing on the road, maybe bugs were out buzzing (and bugging), the smell of people who have walked and their animals could have drifted by. But if these two men sat there often, this would all have been familiar to them. Then, something strange happens – there is a crowd walking past and the men hear news.

Jesus is coming!

What fabulous news for all of us to hear! How did they respond? “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!” (Matthew 20:30). Mercy, shouting for mercy! It was a cry of help! What a great response to Jesus. We all need help and when we hear that Jesus is passing by, we can either cry out for mercy, try to ignore the crowd, or hide. These men showed wisdom in their pleading.

The crowd’s response was to tell the men to be quiet. Shhhhhhh!!!!! Can’t you hear it now; practice it in your very best movie librarian voice. Don’t interrupt us, don’t bother Jesus, and don’t get in my way! We do that too don’t we? That person has something wrong with them – don’t look, don’t ask, don’t talk, don’t, don’t, don’t.... Or better yet, let’s hide what’s wrong so that nobody else knows. We have an inner Shhhh at times that comes out, telling us that it is just too minor, major, horrible, silly, etc... to be shared.


So again – I applaud these men, they were not daunted by the crowd, but shouted out even louder, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!” (Matthew 20:31).

Jesus stopped, called the men to him. “What do you want me to do for you?” (Matthew 20:32). These few verses are just packed with information! We learn more about Jesus here. He knows what is wrong with these men. He knows about their vision, about every cell and every hair, every hope and every dream, every wrong and every right that has ever surrounded these men. But, he stops to ask – what do you want me to do? Jesus does that for us too. He doesn’t charge in and make us change. Instead, he calls to us, stops for us, and then asks us about the change. What love that is! Think how we would rebel if it was pushed on us, instead we are wooed.


What did the men want? Their sight! “Lord, we want our sight.” (Matthew 20:33). Can you imagine the butterflies in the stomach, the elbowing and jostling in the crowd, the excitement in the air? Sight for these men carried so much with it, possibilities and freedoms that were currently unattainable.


Jesus had mercy on them, he had compassion, and he knew that he could heal these men and what it would mean. Jesus “touched their eyes.” (Matthew 20:34).


What I would give to have been able to see those men’s faces as they took it all in. What was the first thing they saw? Did they know what their road side compatriot looked like? Did they hear familiar voices in the crowd and start putting faces with them? We don’t know if they had always been blind, perhaps they had never seen sunlight or starlight, shadows, green leaves, and the dust of the road. There would be so much to do right then, I think I would want to go five directions at one time! I want to see everything!!


But, these men “received their sight and followed him,” (Matthew 20:34). They received their physical sight, but they also followed Jesus, receiving the sight of their souls. Jesus did have mercy on them.

A Street Side View

A neighbor on my street, a dozen or houses so down the pavement, has a brown plaid couch sitting on the grass – near the road, waiting for trash pick up. It’s wooden arms are shiny with the moistness of frost and the brown and yellow tinged plaid looks fine, but I’m sure if I stopped and sat down it would be squishy with the morning dampness.

Wondering as I drive past, if I were sitting on that couch what would I see? The last few days, I have been leaving the house early, and the kids gather at the bus stop to get to the high school. Sitting in that spot, I could hear them walking past, the banter and laughter, the trudge and sighs of another angst ridden homework filled teenage day, and the hop of the younger children as they head to the elementary school. Cars, vans, jeeps, trucks, and parents wander past with children and sometimes dog leashes in hand. Once school is in session, sounds would change. The quieter sounds would stroll through, leaves blowing down the street with their unique rattle, neighborhood sounds of doors and dogs, tools and wood being split for winter. School recess activities, and then picking all the kids up again at the end of the day.

If I could pick that couch up, shrink it, stick it in my pocket and move it someplace else, to watch – where would I go? Let’s see – I think first I would go and put the couch on a hill top in the Black Hills of South Dakota. I would watch the buffalo move across the plains and through the valleys. Perhaps an antelope would even come close and graze if I sat really still. Then, off to Ottawa – in front of the Chateau Laurier to watch the coming and goings. High tea would be enjoyed from my seat while listening to the pipes and drums playing in the Memorial Park across the street. Puppy class, here in town, watching the dogs go through their lessons and their people are trained. They are such funny creatures to watch as they learn, the pups are as well.

It would be rather interesting to be able to have a sort of magical view spot to stop and watch and see. But of course, the real fun doesn’t come sitting on the couch – it is from getting up and participating.