Archive for the ‘Nature’ Category
For the Birds
Black oil sunflower seeds litter the ground beneath the ancient magnolia tree. The neglected bird feeder once again spills it bounty. It tempts birds back to delight our afternoons.
Behind the window, we peak at life outdoors. Meadowlarks dressed in their winter plumage of gray tinted yellow hop and peck. Yesterday a dove joined the feast. Today the chickadees return.
Little girls huddle close as we identify new visitors.
I think that is a nuthatch. Did you see him come down the tree upside-down?
Mom, he’s so pretty!
A squirrel bounces over to raid. Sweet Pea chases him away. To a squirrel this little girl is scary, but her scrunched eyes and pursed lips don’t have the same effect on me. I just want to kiss her.
We continue to watch and wonder at the majesty of the smallest creatures. Wings carry them. God sustains them.
I forgot to fill the feeder for weeks, yet these front yard friends return.
We welcome their reminder to slow down and enjoy the beauty of creation.
Autumn Craft Collection
Collecting seeds in the woods resulted in imaginative creations.
My son designed a pine cone bird with a sweetgum head.
My daughters made acorn dolls with green hair and silk flower dresses.
On our next adventure, we hope to gather leaves. Last year the leaves rotted brown. If the rusty patinas are missing again, we will make our own color with these crafts:
- Salt Dough Leaf Magnets
- Melted Crayon Stained Glass Window
- Nature Luminary Candle Holders
- Yarn Painting
- Fall Fingerprint Trees
Next on the agenda, haircuts.
What are you creating this season?
The Song of Acorns, Pine Cones, and Sweetgums
My thoughts wander with the floating leaves in the cool weather. Who wants to be indoors when the breeze rustles the trees, and the birds fill them with music? The clear sky beckons, so we abandon the scattered books. Children pack clothes and cuddlies, Bible and blanket. I do well to find my shoes before the troupe marches out of sight.
Backpacks bounce as mismatched runaways veer right into the empty field framed with gnarled trees and rambling vines. This is our place of adventure. In spring, kites soar. In summer, flowers paint the grass. Now, the first week of autumn, we explore life and death in the miniature forest.
Bodmer Oak, Fontainbleau Forest
My brave Sunshine doesn’t hesitate to venture into the undergrowth. Sweet Pea, three-years-old, isn’t as confident. In her imagination, the trees have eyes and long, crooked fingers waiting to grab her. My son swings on thick ivy hanging from the scariest tree. The sycamore doesn’t growl, so Sweet Pea follows.
Pine needles crunch under our feet. Tiny branches trip. Leaves crumple on the spongy ground. We balance on a felled tree, then retrace our steps to avoid the road home.
Sunshine stoops to examine acorns captivated by the smooth nuts with fairy hat tops. She wonders how the tiny acorn grows into the huge oak beside her.
As the trees begin their sleep underneath the canopy, little hands gather acorns, pine cones, and sweetgums. Full hands and bulging pockets slow the trip home. When seeds slip through fingers, we must stop to gather again. Once home, minds erupt with creative ideas for the prized collection.
The books are still on the floor. We will revisit them later. It’s time to enjoy the green-faced, acorn fairies and googly-eyed, pine cone birds. Magical creatures birthed in the minds of children remind me to embrace the season: this season of watching acorns grow.
In the Path of the Storm
Hurricanes and tornadoes are new to me. I grew up in the cold desert of Southern Idaho. Rain there it is a slow drizzle, not a furious torrent.
Upon my arrival in Texas, the thunder storms delighted me. The lightning streaked across the sky, and I waited to be shaken by the thunder. The power of nature was spectacular.
I didn’t have to worry about my house flooding, or my children being startled awake by crashing clouds. I could gaze out the window and simply enjoy the view. Some of that wonder still exists, but it is tempered by reality.
Our house has flooded twice from rain not associated with a hurricane. Sweeping water out the front door and drying wet books taught me to fear. I am not terrified, but my heart does beat slightly faster as the news announces the real storm is still miles away.
We’ve been watching the trees sway since early this morning. The clouds speed across the ominous sky, and the rain has started.
My children are in awe of the impending storm. They want the blinds up so they can see it all: the sway, the drip, the green, the gray. Seeing them gaze out the window, my heart remembers the wonder and trust of childhood. Wonder at the power and majesty of nature. Trust in love for shelter.
Update: All is well. The inside of the house stayed dry. No branches crashed into the roof. As an added bonus, I got a day off work and long nap. However, there are thousands of evacuees in our city who are still worried about their property. Please remember them.
