In the Tiptoe Moments

I see the point of a soft pink triangle that cuts between two pine trees to the southeast, and a sparrow lands on a bare branch just outside my window. I peel back the Target-bought shabby chic quilt, the white one striped with pink roses, and slide from between crisp white sheets, careful to not disturb the cat curled next to me. I slip on my fluffy white robe, pocket the Droid, and creep downstairs in search of slippers. I love the tiptoe moments of the morning. To be continued over at BibleDude.net today. Won’t you tiptoe...

When the Storm Comes

The moon drops into the west like a giant grapefruit this morning, while the storm’s eye focuses on the eastern coastline. My dad calls to remind me that this hurricane carries my name, and I’m already unsettled enough about that. I cringe every time I hear “my” name . . . I’m writing over at BibleDude.net today with a random reflection.  And won’t you join me in prayer for our east coast sisters and...

For When the Way Grows Weary (Tease and Photo Essay)

It’s only a one-mile loop, this Dry Marsh Trail. I can handle that, even in this heat. It’s an easy hike, though, and it’s good to be away and outside, just the two of us. I lag behind, stopping to take pictures of this and that. He waits for me to catch up, reads out loud from the brochure. This marsh was once a small lake that supported many aquatic plants and animals. Through the years, rain-washed soil gradually filled it in, and now it holds water only in wet years. There’s little water today. As the marsh continues to fill in, plants growing around the drier edges will spread inward. If you were to stand on this spot 100 years from now you might be in the middle of an oak woods. I pause to ponder how changes and erosion and drought can still...