Morning hangs damp and gray.
Like my spirits.
Rusted farm bell stands guard on weathered post, bolted with two eyes and a nose. It’s mostly silent these days, its original purpose faded into the past with disuse.
Awning ruffle ripples gently, and tree branches sway.
Cracked concrete apron has almost swallowed my children’s handprints.
The garage gutter bends low, the hoop long ago removed.
My kitchen table hosts a front-row seat to ghostly memories of basketball games, homemade carnival booths, hopscotch, bicycle weavings, kiddie pools, a parade of cars, a camper, squeals and laughter.
It’s mostly silent these days.
My husband pruned the shrub outside the window last fall. The one that held a nest every year where we could peek down at the eggs and babies. It used to reach to the window, but now just stubble.
With buds.
He meant to cover the Rose Dog bush (planted in her memory) but didn’t, and I hope that it will bloom again.
In the meantime, yellow finches cascade from feeder to ground.
My forced forsythia is in full yellow bloom.
My yellow tulips nod joy.
I whip yellow French toast eggs, add a little milk, a sprinkle of cinnamon, and a splash of vanilla.
And in the mostly silence, my thoughts turn from what once was to what could be.
And a yellow (almost) sun breaks through the clouds.
(Yes, that’s the late afternoon sun. Honest.)
Finding Joy in the Yellow,
Wilderness and desert will sing joyously, the badlands will celebrate and flower— Like the crocus in spring, bursting into blossom, a symphony of song and color. Mountain glories of Lebanon—a gift. Awesome Carmel, stunning Sharon—gifts. God’s resplendent glory, fully on display. God awesome, God majestic. ~Isaiah 35:1 (Message)
Spilling crumbs again with Emily.
And finding joy with Bonnie.
i like finding the yellow with you 🙂
😀 😀
Beautiful pictures, beautiful thoughts…thanks.
Thank you, Kenda.
I like these bits of yellow. They are sweet whispers of joy on a tired night. Praying more yellow your way, friend.
Amazing what a bit of yellow can do for one’s spirit!
The forsythia is blooming here, as well as the daffodils. Fragrant hyacinths are joining them, while tulips are coming up.
Love your pics!
My vinca vines have a few flowers, and bulbs are coming up, but no real blooms yet. Won’t be long, though. I’ve weathered winter well, but I’m ready.
What a lovely piece… words, thoughts, and pics. Thanks for your hospitality. I had a lovely time visiting you this morning…
Thank you so much for dropping in. Wonderful to have you!
God is so good to give us glimpses of Heaven, taste of joy in the midst of our gray days. Blessings to you today, Sandra, and may your world be filled with bright moments of yellow! 🙂
Your friendship brings some yellow to my days, Cindee!
I love the finch. The forsythia. And the yellow, yes. 🙂
🙂 🙂
OK, Laura Boggess sent me hugs & forsythia this morning. Didn’t know it was yellow until I Googled it. Now this! I’m taking it as a God thing and sallying forth.
I’m smiling big. He does those “God things” well!
Cracked concrete apron has almost swallowed my children’s handprints.
LOVED this line. but the whole thing… it stole me, and i wanted to sit there with you eating french toast and breathing in the yellow.
Now that would be lovely–eating French toast together with bowls of fresh berries on a yellow gingham cloth
I’m convinced God made sure he created spring flowers in pinks, mauves and yellows to bring us warmth and cheer as they chase winter drabness away. I enjoy all flowers, but the spring ones are something special. We need them after enduring winter.
Oh yes! The joys of persevering!
I love the way you just set the scene for me. I’m just gently there with you. And I really like french toast! (sorry I know that’s kind of random)
Random is good. 😀
Sandra! What a delight to find this photojournal in the faith jam – poetry of joy through pictures and your reflections. I loved each scroll down through our words and images. Thank you for sharing. Loved visiting together!