Doe of Beauty


A deer in the yard near the woods

Doe of beauty

Surrounded by snow of white deep and bright

Standing guard of all the others

Look closely now

Ears begin to twitch

Tail flickers tall and straight

Back and forth

Warning others of friend or foe

She does not know

She must protect

The young beside her with noses buried

Searching for food

Kernels of corn carried

Keeping distance lest she dart away

Dropping load to disappear

Peeking through frosted glass shedding tear

A deer in the yard near the woods

Standing guard of all the others

Gathering to nibble cobs of golden sunken in frozen

Doe of Beauty

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Silent White


So quiet today.  Snowflakes falling…falling…falling until they landed silently atop a million or more drifted near my door.  Later, a slight tug-of-war broke out, highlighted by the sound of rubber screeching slightly.  Me, using a bit of force to push against it.  “No, don’t open me,” my back door seemed to say.

The white seal at the bottom of the door frame had expanded.  The cold of dropping temperatures together with the freezing flakes of white seemed to have made the door fit tighter.  Finally, with another push of my shoulder the door burst free, flooding me with fresh cold air.

My back yard is blanketed in virgin white snow.  I’d guess about six inches or more.  Not an animal track to be seen anywhere.  No deer or turkey, nor feathered friends have crossed my land.  The tree branches hang covered, while bushes low to the ground look like they have been drizzled with powdered sugar icing.   They remind me of cookies decorated long ago with a frosting tube.  Obviously, the ‘child’ in me got carried away……Still, they are beautiful.

The snowflakes started last night.  I caught a glimpse of them when I let my ‘Doodle’ dog out just before bedtime.  Snowflakes splashed on to my face.  New and wet, fresh from a dark moonlit sky.  I ran to grab my camera phone, hoping to capture a picture of them falling in front of a street light.  Such a sight to behold.  No one else seen on the road.  I was wrapped in the quiet wonder of it.  Under the light, such a contrast between the jet black onyx of the sky and the sparkling bright, white snow.  It was as though no one existed in all the world except for me and God.

Back inside the warmth of my cozy home, I wiped clumps of snow off the paws of my loyal furry friend.  Locking doors before bed, I peeked out a leaded glass window one last time to view the street light where snowflakes had given me something to dream about.  Yes, the lamp still shined brightly among the darkness.  And, all around it fell beautiful wet snow flakes of silent white.

 

 

 

 

The Forecaster


 

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Reblogged  and edited from 1/6/2014 in honor of my son for “National Weatherperson’s Day.”

Most of the country is in a deep freeze today.  A friend from St. Louis texted me a picture of my home.  It looked like a Christmas picture postcard all adrift in powdery snow.  A bit blurry at first, I squeezed my eyes tighter to hold my I-Phone a bit farther away.  No, there was nothing wrong with my eyes.  The picture was fine, not fuzzy or out of focus.  It was simply difficult to see my home adrift in all of the white of sparkling powder.  Millions of minute snowflakes, no two alike were falling from God’s sky in all of their delight.

Currently, the weather is a dilemma in many parts of our country.  This is not lost on me.  I’ve raised a son who lives and breathes it every day.   Since toddlerhood, he has been fascinated with snow.  Now that he is an adult, he warns of severe thunderstorms, tornadoes and all of the alike while helping to predict hurricanes and typhoons.  His passion though, is snow.   Yes, S.N.O.W,  through and through.

Whenever my son sits in front of his computer modules looking at colors on the screen…. lines of reds, greens, blues and yellows together with squiggles of movement and flow, it becomes his golden time.  He’s waited all his life for such weather history.  Half the earth is colder than it may ever be in this century!  This is my son’s life-time of dreams with a shiny trophy to be put on an imaginary shelf.  One he never expected to live to see, yet here it is!  Can it really be?

My son has a passionate love for the beauty of the freezing snow.  Yes, this is true.  Most importantly, he saves lives.  Lives…..yours and mine!  Others don’t often stop to think about this. Many make jokes about the weather.  Some say, “Anyone can predict it.”  Ha! When sirens screech loudly in the distance or when radio signals blare while local television weather persons say, “TAKE COVER,” it is due to the years of education together with many long and arduous working hours of….you guessed it, my son’s forecasting.

True, the study of “Atmospheric Science” or Weather is my son’s  passion.  Still, stop to think about this.  He gets up in the dawn of morn or the black of midnight while his wife and precious babies sleep tight.  Sweetly, he kisses pink foreheads before packing up to leave for an unknown number of hours.  His ‘day’ depends on weather conditions that may extend for an unknown number of hours.  Working three different shifts from week to week or month to month, his schedule often changes.   His body clock struggles to adapt, yet he never, ever complains.  At times, his loyal service dog, “Nimbus,” may look up to question him.  Black eyes the color of damp mud look to his Master as if to say, “Already?”  “Again?”  Four paws and a tail shake it off before trudging away for another night or day.

So, while you’re out shoveling today, slipping, sliding, complaining or having fun, please remember my son.  Yes, he lives and breathes to see sparkling, white snow.  But, too, he’s always doing his very best job for you.

His very best job….

 

Winter’s Frost


 

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Stepping into the black of frosty night fingers lose warm mittens

Calling me hither to view magic sights more to see tomorrow will be

A yawn before dawn, God’s breath blankets all with freezing air

Below the moon of white glowing above so high and bright

There lies a patio table covered for winter with a frozen top

Patterns glisten in blinking lights below inky skies above

Where air stops to rest on camel-colored cloth

Stand back to get a better view

Snowflakes sparkle upon a frozen surface leaving

Speckled dust of diamonds shaved and carved to perfection

Diminutive sizes mirroring heads of straight pins in shining silver

Once draping fabric folds to dance within windy music stiffen to the touch

Brushing along one side, an unusual sound is heard

Kind of crunching, more of moaning, not quite frozen.

Morning light with sky of blue begins anew

Frost is sprinkled like powdered sugar everywhere

Wrought iron swings alone don’t sit there fall right through

Favorite bench beckons me in woods so grande shall have to wait

A small price to pay fore next year’s rays of early warming spring

Relish such artistry and elegance of winter’s frost until I sing

God’s Matinee


Unexpectedly, snow began to fall.  Flakes in different sizes and shapes were seen from a sky colored in smudged charcoal that seemed to be sketched against a slanted artist’s easel from Paris.  Falling freely, endlessly.  White and wet.

Not yet winter, the picture before me fooled even God’s seasoned calendar.  A fall that fell quite early it seemed, leaving crinkled leaves suddenly damp within the woodland trees behind my home.  Colors of finality dipped in burgundy and muted gold spoke volumes to creatures living in the forest.

This morning before rising, I delighted in viewing nature’s entertainment seen through the bow of my bedroom window.  Surely, it could have been a miniature version of the famous Circe-de-Solei!   Dancing acrobatically, bushy tails of nutmeg twirled and flew.  No net was underneath lest they fall or break a neck.

Wheee!!  Padded paws on furry limbs passed each other, swinging on trapeze bars of wired imagination.  Two by two.  Or, perhaps I saw them grabbing on to nothing more than hanging vines?  Acorns fell to the ground, leaving minute indentations in the snow.  Little plops of nests where forest fairies might stop to rest.  Time to take a break or sit and see the next matinée of the day.

When the opportunity arises, enjoy God’s life of free-living and breathing entertainment.  Nature is always putting on a show.  Open your eyes to see the spellbinding world surrounding you.  No reservations needed!

Queen Anne’s Lace


Early last evening the sky began to open.  Dry snow began to sprinkle down from heaven above.  It fell loose and landed randomly.  White powder reminded me of the sugar I used to watch my grandmother shake from a round sifter she kept in a metal kitchen drawer.  It was made of silver wire with a wooden handle painted in red.

My grandmother shook the ‘snow’ over stencils in the shape of a half-moon or triple sets of stars placed on top of a chocolate cake or brownies made from scratch.  Nearby, in her white porcelain sink floated used mixing bowls in colors of yellow, green and pink.

Yesterday, I’ll admit to feeling a little blue when the snow began to spill.  After all, it is nearly the end of March.  It seems as though God has put a temporary lid on our usual box of seasons here.  The spring that sprung only days ago is once again hidden underground.  For now….

Enchanting patterns fell to resting places atop the very tips of landscaped bushes surrounding my home.  Like miniature stars.   Still, I took them to be a sign of spring.  They were clusters that looked like, Queen Anne’s Lace.  The same flowers seen in fields of whispering wheat or near the sides of bicycle roads.  When I was a child they grew wild behind my grandmother’s green garage.  If snow hadn’t showered yesterday, I wouldn’t be thinking of my grandmother’s kitchen stencils or chocolate cake today.

Warm memories bursting forth through cold tufts of snow.  Spring has sprung after all.

God’s way to let me know…..

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Differences


It’s nearing the end of January.  When I opened the patio door early this morning the shivering air rushed in…WHOOSH!   My ‘Doodle’ dog scampered out.  He sniffed at frozen shrubbery before passing them by.  I watched him from my bay window and wondered why?  He lumbered beneath the hillside where my ‘deer-friends’ stopped to meet.   They were there last night, leaving prints leftover in the still white snow.

The hillside behind my house has an unusual pattern left in the snow.  I’ve never noticed one like it before.   It’s  hard for me to describe.  Here in my office, I can see it through the French doors, all the way to the kitchen’s patio window far on the other side.  I see it staring back at me.  As if to ask, “What are you looking at?  What is so different about me?”

Differences.  They are all around us, not meant by God to be the same.  All we have to do is stop to think or take a look.  I scrutinize impressions of crusty milk piles left outside, blades of brown grass underneath, tall branches of bare trees reaching high in the sky and frozen flowers buried deep below.

God’s creations for a purpose.  Differences for us to get to know.

photo 2

The Forecaster


Most of the country is in a deep freeze today.  A friend from St. Louis texted me a picture of my home.  It looked like a Christmas picture postcard all adrift in powdery snow.  A bit blurry at first, I squeezed my eyes tighter to hold my I-Phone a bit farther away.  No, there was nothing wrong with my eyes, after all.  The picture was fine, not fuzzy or out of focus.  It was just difficult to see my home adrift in all of the white.  Millions of minute snowflakes, no two alike were falling from God’s sky in all of their delight.

Currently, the weather is a dilemma in our country.  This is not lost on me.  I’ve raised a son who lives and breathes it every day.   Since toddlerhood, he has been fascinated with snow.  Now that he is an adult, he warns of severe thunderstorms and tornadoes while helping to predict hurricanes and typhoons.  His passion though, is snow.  S.N.O. W.,  through and through.

Whenever my son sits in front of his computer modules looking at the colors on the screen, the squiggly lines or movement and flow, it becomes his golden time.  He’s waited all his life for this historic weather-time.  Half the earth is colder than it may ever be in this century!  This is my son’s life-time trophy to be put on an imaginary shelf.  One he never expected to live to see, yet here it is!  Can it really be?

My son has a true love for the beauty of the freezing snow.  Yes, this is true.  Most importantly, he saves lives.  Lives…..yours and mine.  Others don’t often stop to think about this.  Many make jokes about the weather.  Some say, “Anyone can predict it.”  Ha!  When sirens screech loudly in the distance, when radio signals blare or your local television weather person say’s “TAKE COVER,” it is due to the years of education together with long working hours of, you guessed it….my son.

True, the study of “Atmospheric Science’ or Weather is my son’s  passion.  Still, stop to think about this.  He gets up in the dawn of morn or the quiet of night with his wife and babies sleeping tight.  Sweetly, he kisses foreheads before packing up to leave for an unknown number of hours.  His ‘day’ depends on the weather.  Working three different shifts from week to week or month to month, his schedule changes.   Often, his body clock struggles to adapt.  At times, his loyal service dog, “Nimbus,” may look up to question him.  Black eyes the color of damp mud look to his Master as if to say, “Already?”  “Again?”  Four paws and a tail shake it off before trudging away for another d.a.y.

So, while you’re out shoveling today, slipping, sliding, or complaining please remember my son.  Yes, he lives and breathes to see sparkling, white snow.  But, too, he’s done his very best job for you.  His very best job….