Beginnings::Not-Summer on Pollywog Creek {a Photo Essay}

The beginning of the year on Pollywog Creek is in our unpredictable season of not-summer—an eclectic combination of fall, winter, and spring all at once.

Summer here in the deep, sub-tropical south is fairly predictable. The air-conditioner runs 24/7, it's oppressively hot and muggy, and afternoon thunderstorms are the norm.

Not-summer is less predictable. We might need the air-conditioner, open the windows or turn on the heater. It can be humid outside or dry. In the same week.

A cold front might bring rain, thunderstorms, or fizzle out and stall before it passes through. Already this month we have run the air-conditioner more days than not, had three severe storms with tornado warnings and turned on the heater.

This is how we are beginning 2016, and it's a thousand gifts and more.

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.
Genesis 1:1

He has made everything beautiful in its time.
Also, he has put eternity into man's heart,
yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.
Ecclesiastes 3:11

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom; all those who practice it have a good understanding. His praise endures forever!
Psalm 111:10

Who has performed and done this,
calling the generations from the beginning?
I, the Lord, the first,
and with the last; I am he.
Isaiah 41:11 {Please visit my lovely photog friends and delight in their beginnings} Julie @ Captured Bits of Beauty Marty @ What Marty Sees Connie @ Live, Love, Laugh, Hope

No beauty contest winners here...

But they're mine - as much as anything wild that shares our space here on Pollywog Creek is mine.

Muscovies may not qualify as one of God's most beautiful creations and they are considered to be a nuisance by most Floridians, they eat their weight in mosquitoes and larva, as well as, flies, spiders, and other insects. It's been said that they eat roaches like candy. For that fact alone, I'm more than happy they often call our little pond home.

Unlike most ducks, muscovies are quiet. The males might hiss and the females sometimes have a faint quack, that's more like a "pip," but if I don't see them, the only way I know they are here is if I hear them crash-land into the pond or they miss the mark and land on the roof. It happens. 

I find them peaceful and entertaining - and a photography challenge. They will either fly or paddle away from me if they see me coming, but I enjoy trying to capture the iridescent feathers along their back as they glide across the surface of our pond. 

ECHO {Educational Concerns for Hunger Organization} no longer keeps muscovies at their farm in Florida, but they have experienced success in developing countries throughout the world that have muscovies to control insects and as a food source. 

I'm content to keep them off our dinner plates and happily munching on 'skeeters around the pond. 

{Photos::the pond the last week of August on Pollywog Creek.}

Green is the color of August...

An edited repost - my signature segue into August

There are two reasons I love the month of August: the green-tinted kaleidoscope through which we view this rain-nourished world around us, and though it's only a minor seasonal fact that has little to do with the weather, August is the last full month of summer. It's hump-month. We're half the way to cooler mornings and pleasant evenings and no mosquitoes. 

Not that I'm complaining, because I promised myself long ago that I'd cultivate contentment and stop wishing my life away in anticipation of something in the future.

To not fully delight in the gifts of the moment is both foolish and ungracious, for it's not only all I really have, it's abundantly more than enough. 

So I begin the month of August once again counting a multitude of gratitudes for a day and a week and a month of more than enough. 

• the color green - dotted with rippening beautyberries, a blazing flamebush, dangling clusters of wild grapes, and the giant orchids that have boldly pushed through the rain-soaked earth
• four days and nights to run my fingers through his soft curly hair and leisurely cuddles with a baby grandlittle
• Wednesday morning in study and fellowship with sisters in Christ and the teaching ministry of Beth Moore
• an evening round the table with Nick, Casey and Emily for the first time since Christmas
• the fervent prayers of righteous sisters carrying me through a seige with shingles
• the daily reading in the Word with Louis 
• my beautiful Emily home from Georgia - who makes days and nights with grandlittles possible
• a blue bowl of sweet cherries
• the assurance of God's new mercies every single day

Related: Green is the Color of August 

Photos: August greens on Pollywog Creek

Where life is a bowl of gardenias...

Pollywog Creek flourishes green from recent early summer rains, and as I rest on the banks of the pond this sabbath afternoon, I soak in the goodness of the day. 

I do love Sundays - from waking to the aroma of fresh coffee and Louis frying bacon for the Sunday morning pancake breakfast he's faithfully prepared for over thirty years, to the lazy late afternoon and everything in between. 

Monday morning I breathe in the intoxicating sweetness of gardenias I've arranged in the etched glass bowl on the counter next to the jar of roses. Could there be anything better than gardenias that says, I live in the south?

From just south of the Georgia state line to our handful of acres here on Pollywog Creek - all the days of my life have passed on Florida's sandy-soil where living is seldom in a hurry.  

Come summer you'll understand why life in the south moves slow and easy, my husband is fond of informing newcomers and snowbirds. 

I might complain about those slow summer days of stifling heat and oppressive humidity, but I'm grateful that the LORD chose to plant my feet in this southern soil - where no, ma'am and yes,sir are signs of respect, sweet ice tea is a major food group, and a bowl of fresh gardenias graces the table.

Have you ever smelled a gardenia?

What I learn from the ugly duckling...

In my wanderings about lately, I've given up pushing past momentary difficulties - choosing instead to simply sit on the ground and rest where ever I happen to be when the energy and effort to take one more step escapes me. 

I've come to appreciate this ground-level perspective - especially when surrounded by wildflowers in the thick pasture grass or near the cypress knees at the sloping edges of our Pollywog Creek pond. It's where you're most likely to find me these days - in the cool of morning and late afternoon.

A small badelynge of muscovy ducks spends most of every day in and around the pond. I've never see them flying in with enough time to grab a camera and focus, so capturing these large and heavy ducks' big-splash landings has thus far eluded me.

With a reputation for being a messy nuisance and a red-warty face that only a mother duck could love, there's no denying that the muscovy lacks the painted bunting's photogenic appeal. 

Even so, I'm entertained by their antics as they float around the pond, waddle about on their large webbed feet, and rest and preen in the shade of the cypress trees, but their appetite for the mosquitoes and lavae that multiply in legions in our tropical south is what I appreciate the most.

But here's what I've noticed about these ugly ducklings - when sunlight falls on their backs they are beautiful - their feathers shining iridescent green and purple - and I forget about their mess and red-warty faces. 

And I think about the ugly sin and mess in our lives that is hidden by who we are in Christ as the light of the gospel shines on you and me.

The Lord is God,
and he has made his light to shine upon us.

Psalm 118.27

I recently updated my Free For Bloggers Set on Flickr with new photos. No strings attached - you can link them to me, or not. Those photos are my gift to you. 

Christian hands never clasp and He doesn't give gifts for gain...a gift can never stop being a gift - it is always meant to be given.

― Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

{Photos - around my Pollywog Creek pond}