They frolic out in the field, the three of them with their mamas. Picking their way through soybean sprouts. Camouflaged in corn stalks. The mamas are alert, protective. Dennis says the tree line is close to half a mile from me, and yet the mamas seem to hear and see me. They’re prepared to rush the party into the woods.
Because of the distance, these photos don’t exactly rock, but they still give me a thrill. Deer are so common here, but I still want to turn cartwheels of joy when I see them.
And just in case you think I’ve been joking–this is a photo of my herb garden this year. There might be some mint in there somewhere.
Though the cherry trees don’t blossom
and the strawberries don’t ripen,
Though the apples are worm-eaten
and the wheat fields stunted,
Though the sheep pens are sheepless
and the cattle barns empty,
I’m singing joyful praise to God.
I’m turning cartwheels of joy to my Savior God.
Counting on God’s Rule to prevail,
I take heart and gain strength.
I run like a deer.
I feel like I’m king of the mountain!