Queen Anne's lace

Lace in the wind

last days of summer

The air most certainly has a coolness to it. 

A freshness. Hinting at sweaters and hats.

God's autumn palette is beginning to creep across the meadows and the woods.  

August finished. Suggesting  school and harvest.

creativity is good

It's rather nice to put some chores on hold and spend some time with the kids creating colorful homes for our feathered friends.

God of the Open Air

God of the Open Air

By the faith that the wild flowers show 

when they bloom unbidden,

By the calm of a river's flow 

to a goal that is hidden,

By the strength of the tree that  clings 

to its deep foundation,

By the courage of birds' light wings 

on the long migration--

Wonderful Spirit of trust 

that abides in nature's breast!

Teach me how to confide, 

and live my life, 

and rest.

Henry Van Dyke

around the fire

The children have been asking for a campfire, and last night the weather was well suited for it.

Feeling rather pleased with myself I built a fire that would do any boy scout proud. Izak brought out the makings of  'smores, I found some marshmallow roasting sticks and we were all set.

Hoping for quality family time I was disappointed. Lack of enthusiasm, discouraging words, disobedience, fueling my  disappointment, anger burning inside me.  In frustration I doused the Kodak moment and sent everyone inside. Quality moment up in smoke.

Was there still enjoyment? Were the memories created good? or only negative? Little boy said it was good.

Lord, we are incredibly weak, prone to selfishness, to wrong motives. Our parenting needs redemption.   Parent with us, sit around the table and the campfires with us. Teach us to reflect your love. Kindle devotion in their hearts. 

Today is a new day, we will try again. love them, teach them, try again.

Grace.

after the rain

Always,

after the rain

comes the sun.

Grey skies

followed by vivid blue.

It is not hurricane Bill, not last week's tornado,

just the dull and wet and blah

that seems to sap me of joy,

not life threatening challenges, but the daily disappointments that hide the sunlight. 

Too many projects on the go 

that rob me of direction. 

Lack of direction 

that prevents accomplishment. 

Lack of accomplishment 

that discourages.

And then 

out comes the sun

that dries up all the rain...

ditch jumpers again

Today  another out of the blue rainstorm  filled the front ditch to overflowing and the ditch jumpers were thrilled.

Violent weather resides leaving an oddly colored sky and a full rainbow.

I jump in the car to find an uncluttered place to photograph and race to a nearby meadow.  

The pond has overflowed and the golden ripples wrap around my legs as I wade along the path.  A frog jumps ahead of me, tiny fish swim past my feet. Queen Anne's lace stands pink against the setting sun.  My tripod stands in a foot of water as I try and capture the remaining light.

I am refreshed, the wind blowing discouragement far from my mind.

"this is my Father's world,

and to my listening ears,

all nature sings

and round me rings,

the music of the spheres."

stray

As we are waiting to hear from the SPCA who this dog belongs to we are wondering about keeping him.  The neighbours rescued him as he was wandering along a busy road.

Cute as a button. A cockapoo? Roughly 6 months old.  Not house broken but quiet in his cage. Yappy but affectionate.

What should we name him? Mozart? Einstein? Heise? Calvin? 

fickle weather skies

stuck with mud

Mud outside,

tracked inside.

Showers twice a day

for little people,

carried in under my arm......

...."Stuck in muck"

they shout

as they leap

from the dirt pile

into the puddle

that the rain made

and  that they add to

with the garden hose!

....."Aah" I say,

stuck with muck,

generally ok

with puddles and dirt,

but rapidly losing

interest in the mud

and the play of the muddees.

as medley

to bloom not in isolation

but in God's garden

 contrasting, enhancing, blending....

each adding color, form, and scent.

unfurling

Petals tightly clenched

thoughts and dreams held close

not blooming till relinquished

as gift to the Author.

What thoughts are planted in the garden of our souls? What plans are watered faithfully?

For whom the dreams tended? For whom the obstacles pulled? 

Lord help me to plant all for you and not for me.  Help me not to waste time on what is not truly beautiful, what is not truly beneficial, what is not truly eternal.

little bit of country

sequential cicada photos (taken every few minutes)

cicada

A distinctive sound of late summer is the cry of the male cicada bug.  It  reminds me of camping, as a child, and my dad shushing us to listen to this insect.

This cicada had just clambered out of its skin and was waiting for its wings to dry before flying off.  It was on the children's playset where they could watch the process.

According to Wikipedia there are 2500 different species of Cicadas.  In north America the Magicicada is the most numerous. 

The adult female will lay her eggs in a slit in the tree bark.  When the eggs hatch they drop to the ground and burrow 30 cm to 2.5 meters into the soil.  The nymphs can stay there for 13 - 17 years before finally digging their way to the surface.  They will climb onto a limb and shed their skins for a final last time.  The male will bellow out his mating song, attract a female, and start the life cycle all over again.

purple loosestrife

This perennial herb was introduced to North America in the 1800s and has spread like wildfire.

It multiplies quickly in wetlands and forms dense stands that prevent the more nutritious native plants from growing hereby effecting both native plants and wildlife dependent on the more nutrient rich  flora. 

Although  a beautiful herb it is a menace to the wetlands.

young explorers

with friends

A day with friends

wading in shallow waters

laughter being splashed about

conversations flowing

from a picnic blanket.

Two of God's great gifts;

nature  around us

and 

friends with us!

just for fun

zooming out on a patch of daisies with a slow shutter speed ...

bit of countryside

There is something beautiful about Queen Anne's Lace.  Tied up in a neat package before it unfurls into a bowl after which it flips into an umbrella.

The blooms looking like so many sheep grazing on a distant hillside.

Butterflies, bees, insects galore.  Blossoms, wildflowers, thistles everywhere.

It was good to take a walk along a Morraine trail today.  Gentle breezes, scented air.  Not a house in sight. Some people like a little bit of countryside with their town, I prefer a little bit of town with  my countryside.

nineteen

Years, months, weeks, days slipping by and suddenly a little girl is 19 years old. 

Young woman of grace for whom I am ever so thankful.  

19 years of life that warm my heart. Sifted to let the sweet memories linger.

Pockets full of kisses.