Full Circle...

It was ten days ago that at dawn and dusk, I walked full circle from bottle brush to bottle brush, chasing sunlight with my camera on Pollywog Creek.

For over a week, the photos have been hidden in a draft while I've pondered what to do with them.

I've been tempted to delete and move on, but I can't. I don't know why, I just know I can't.

It's like the knowing when God wants you to share a word of encouragement, a verse, or a hug, and the Holy Spirit won't let you rest until you do, and then the other person says, "You have no idea how much I needed that today."

So here they are - for that person who needs them today.

All God's critters...

 
  All God's critters got a place in the choir Some sing low, some sing higher Some sing out loud on the telephone wire And some just clap their hands, or paws Or anything they got. ~ Bill Staines 
 Members of this week's Pollywog Creek choir include: spiders (above) red-headed woodpeckers (below) hundreds of dragonflies pileated woodpeckers (below) an otter a soft-shell turtle ladybugs cardinals crows blue-jays two black-bellied whistling ducks (below)dovesred-bellied woodpeckersgracklesheronsbullfrogsmockingbirdsgreat crested flycatchersskeetersa variety of other insects, including a scorpion that stung me three times
and...  another gator.

The place where all beauty comes from...

“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing…to find the place where all the beauty came from” ~ C.S. Lewis

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good.

I think of Genesis as I wander about Pollywog Creek these stifling, humid mornings of summer.

 

The air is heavy, and I'm weighed down by sweat-drenched clothes and dew-soaked sneakers, and I swat at skeeters that nibble my ankles and sometimes question my sanity as I tip-toe 'round the pond.

Crazy lady with her camera. Whatever does she see out there in the wet grass and tangle of vines along the creek?

But truthfully, I can't resist. God sprinkled beauty in unlikely places - in mud and grass and on rocks and cypress knees - and I don't want to miss a thing.

It's in the way dangling moss sparkles in the early morning light, and bullfrogs skip across the surface of the pond, and dragonflies with their gossamer wings poise along the barb-wire fence.

It's in mockingbird serenades, and woodpecker fledglings, and perky dandelions dotting the fields.

And I wonder why we call them weeds when God called them good.

(C.S.Lewis quote HT Light for the Writer's Soul - Victoria Gaines)

Sharing all good things...

Quite a few years ago, I presented a message on laity Sunday to the church we were attending - a message I titled The Three Point Sermon Our Pastor Will Never Give. As we concluded a study of Galatians last week in the mid-week group at the church we now attend, I was reminded of one of the points I'd made in that message.

"One who is taught the word must share all good things with the one who teaches." ~ Galatians 6:6

I don't know where, or if, I filed my notes from years ago, but I don't recall commenting on the imperative. Paul was not making a suggestion. It was a must. And as I reflected on this verse with a fresh perspective, share and good things stood out.

"Share usually implies that one as the usual holder grants to another the partial use, enjoyment or possession of a thing." ~ Merriam-Webster Dictionary online

To share means that I give the "use, enjoyment or possession" of something I already own - a good thing I already possess.

It's easy and natural for me to share with my family and friends, but Galatians 6:6 challenges me to be more creative and intentional in how and what I share with "the one who teaches".

Photos from my backyard swing (with tall glasses of ice cold water) and Pollywog Creek wanderings: beauty berry, rain-sparkled cypress leaves, zinnias, trumpet vines, scruffy molting cardinal fledglings and messy red-bellied woodpeckers, clinging vines on rusty fence, an assortment of flowering weeds, and a hardworking husband who stubbornly insists on cleaning up debris from the felled pines with a bandaged, stitched-up finger.

Summer and stitches...

It feels like a lifetime has passed since I posted anything (creative or original) of substance. I've had too many plates spinning in my head to focus on just one. It's what happens when you have family and friends that you love and care for deeply... ...and they need you (or someone) and you are available. If only to listen and pray... ...or play cars and "Whac a Mole" and cuddle for a nap.

I'm leaving one feeder out this summer (until I run out of seed) for the blue jays and red-bellied woodpeckers...

...and the northern cardinals to feed their fledglings.

Have you ever seen a cardinal fledgling? My goodness, those babies are ugly scraggly.

Without complaining or belaboring the point, it's no secret how I hate feel about summer. I seem to require an inspiration surplus to stay creative and energized in the hot and humid and draining summer. Summer is the perfect season for me to stay inside...

...away from the distraction of insects and flowers and birds

...so I can concentrate on a growing stack of new releases...

...that are begging to be read, reviewed, and shared (when I'm not needed or wanted elsewhere).

We birthday partied over the Memorial Day weekend - ate hot dogs and hamburgers and cake, of course, delighted in cuddly babies and too-cute toddlers, and watched preschoolers play baseball with imaginary bats and balls.

Yesterday, in anticipation of a busy hurricane season, we (as in Louis and Nick) cut down two tall dead long-leaf pines and one dead eucalyptus.

I was relieved when all three trees were on the ground and the house, the fences, Louis and Nick survived intact and unscathed.

An hour or so later, Louis mashed his finger on the tailgate of his truck and we spent four incredibly long hours (over three hours just waiting to be seen) in the emergency room and another hour after we left in search of a pharmacy open on a holiday.

Almost unheard of for me, I'd left the house without a book to read or a notebook for writing. My iPod was in my purse, but I thought it would be rather selfish of me to plug in and mentally "escape" the ER ambiance and leave Louis with his gauze-wrapped and bleeding finger to endure it alone.

I did have my camera and it came in handy when we watched two men in the hospital parking lot put a trash can on a platform with wheels and drag it off behind a golf cart. It seems that a raccoon was discovered in the trash can when someone went to throw something away. I have no idea where (or why) the men took it, but I couldn't resist capturing the moment with my camera.

Poor Louis. He's not a happy camper. Thankfully, his finger was not broken, but he left the ER with a tetanus booster, four stitches, a bulky bandage, and antibiotics for ten days.