Sometimes the best words are the ones that aren’t spoken. If you’ve ever wondered what the maple seed has to say mid-winter when the sun is low, I tell you that you need wonder no longer. Listen carefully.

It tells you about the hand of God. Don’t forget what you’ve heard.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

I think it’s time for the Penguin Post. As you may recall, I decided to try to learn how to draw animals by looking at photos of them in library books and endeavoring to copy them. It’s time consuming, but then I’ve got time to be consumed. Plus it’s educational. I’m going to have to draw the line at assigning myself a five-paragraph essay, though – that’s a perfect way to take the fun out of something.

Penguins recently enjoyed a surge of popularity when Benedict Cumberbatch narrated a documentary about them but didn’t actually know how to pronounce the word “penguin.” Nobody bothered to correct him as he improvised with “peng-wing.” Check it out on YouTube – hilarious!

If I had to pick a favorite, it would be the Emperor penguin, which cradles its young upon its feet until the little fluff balls are ready to go out on their own. But the adelies are awfully cute, too.

Penguin wings are designed to make them “fly through the water.” There’s something very poetic about that phrase. Also, I was stunned to read that they rarely come ashore except to breed. What a pelagic life they lead! (Ha ha – just trying out a new word which I’d never heard before until I read this book.)

I’ll probably delete this in the morning while being decidedly un-pelagic.

I went to get our mail the other day and as I stopped at the mailbox across the street, I thought I detected a small movement behind some shrubbery on the property with the burned-down house. I stood still and waited. I was about to turn back, thinking I’d just imagined it, when a deer stood up, well camouflaged, but visible. I stood still and waited some more. I’m not sure what I thought would happen – it’s not like the deer would take stock of things and then decide to step out of its hiding place so I could see it better.

I am surprised at how often my walks turn into standing stills and waitings. Sometimes I close my eyes and listen; other times I am watching for signs of a living creature. I have this naive idea that if I stand still long enough, I’ll become part of the scenery and any critter that’s hiding from me will let down its guard and come forth.

There are a lot of verses in the Bible about waiting, specifically waiting on the Lord, usually followed by a promise of some strengthening, some encouragement, some reward.

Wait on the Lord;
Be of good courage,
And He shall strengthen your heart;
Wait, I say, on the Lord!
Psalm 27:14

But those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength,
They shall mount up with wings like eagles;
They shall run and not be weary;
They shall walk and not faint.
Isaiah 40:31

Waiting on the Lord is not an exercise in futility. The waiting will always be met with some supply for our need, a strengthening, fresh courage, the stamina to take that next step and not faint from weariness. Wait, I say, on the Lord!

I stood out by the mailbox growing colder and wishing I’d brought my camera out with me. It occurred to me that the deer could probably wait indefinitely and not suffer any real discomfort. I moved slightly and realized I couldn’t even see it anymore. Had it gotten away? I peered into the thicket, losing heart for this contest of wills. In that moment, not one, but two deer turned and began bouncing away, their white tails waving in farewell. This was indeed a reward.

I have no photos, but can share instead a few I took yesterday after our glorious snowfall on Sunday. The first one is of the same tree top that is featured at the top of my blog.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

I woke up early on Saturday morning and looked out the front door to see what the moon was up to. It was as nearly full and the night sky was clear – what a beautiful sight! I ran to get my camera and went out in my slippers on that cold morning to get a photo of the setting moon, sure it was going to be a photographic masterpiece. Think National Geographic. Here’s what I actually got:

It literally looks like a circle of white paper fell on a piece of black paper. That really cracked me up. My eyes could see the coloration markings of the moon, but the camera could not. I fiddled around with the shutter speed and came up with these:

I like them better, but don’t think I’m ready to submit my work to National Geographic yet.

My enthusiasm for the moon led me to put an app on my phone called Moon Calendar Pro. Now at my fingertips, I can look at any day of the year and see what time the moon rises and sets, when the sun rises and sets, the phase of the moon every day, and if that weren’t enough, it also tells me at every minute of the day what the azimuth and the elevation of both the sun and moon are. Truly exciting stuff, even though I had no idea what those two terms meant. They were accompanied with a cool graphic, which also meant nothing to me. Ah, technology. Gotta love it. Fortunately, I know my way around the interwebs and quickly found out just what kind of rich descriptive words I had been granted upon getting that app.

I’m not going to tell you. Look it up – I had to! And when you’ve looked it up, you and I can have very advanced erudite conversation together. I’m looking forward to it.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning, when the moon’s azimuth is 259.1 degrees and its elevation is 21.1 degrees. Brownie points to the person who can figure out when that is. Ready, set…go!

I cheated a little with the photos below. It’s nice to think that the sky was all pink and blue, but in reality, it was gray. The whole scene was gray with black highlights. What really captured my attention was this flock of birds up in the top of the tree. They look like little plump raisins, don’t they? There were two trees quite close together that were filled with these plump raisins, chirping away like mad. I darkened the photo a little to give it more of a silhouette look and then I just had to give some color to the background. I had to.

And in the category of “Interesting Yard Art,” I submit the following:

Those were close together in the same yard. I wondered, briefly, if it looked like I was doing some creepy stalking by taking photos of someone’s yard art. What would you think if you saw me out on the street taking photos of your yard? Would you call the police? Invite me in for coffee? Chase me down the street?

I’ll probably delete this in the morning. Don’t forget about the full moon on Sunday!!

C.S. Lewis spoke of a kind of love that he called “Gift-love,” the proper aim of which is “to put the recipient in a state where he no longer needs our gift.” He goes on to say, “We feed children in order that they may soon be able to feed themselves; we teach them in order that they may soon not need our teaching. Thus a heavy task is laid upon this Gift-love. It must work towards its own abdication. We must aim at making ourselves superfluous. The hour when we can say, ‘They need me no longer,’ should be our reward.”

This is so true about parenting, about mothering. What a wonderful reward it is to see your children independent and flourishing as adults! And yet, it is not unalloyed joy; there is a small measure of grief mixed in when they fly off and leave behind an empty nest.

Empty Nest
They are gone – my heart is grieved.
They are flying! My heart rejoices.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

Tonight we have a waxing gibbous moon with the full moon expected on February 9th. The moon will set tomorrow at 5:29 a.m. How many of you will be up at that time to watch it go below the horizon? I wonder if it ever happens that the sunrise and moonset happen at the same time (or sunset and moonrise)?

The Folly of the Gibbous Moon
I once saw a gibbous moon,
That was keeping the sky in tune,
It begged of the sun a great boon,
“Oh let me stay up until noon.”

This was overheard by the loon,
Who flew off to tell the baboon,
Who immediately started to swoon,
And had to be hit with a spoon.

The sun had no choice but to croon
To answer the impetuous moon.
It sang and the song was a tune,
That created a lunar balloon.

“I suspect you’ll be full very soon,”
Said the sun to the gibbous moon,
“And then you’ll shrink up like a prune,
So you may not stay up until noon!”

I don’t know what’s gotten into me – two silly poems in as many days. Must be the moon.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

The Ballad of the Birdies

Said the red bird to the gold one,
“Come fly away with me!”
But the gold bird shook her feathers,
“I cannot leave with thee.”

Said the red bird to the gold one,
“We’ll blaze across the skies!”
But the gold bird trembled softly,
“I don’t think that is wise.

“We’d soar along together,
We’d fill the earth with song,
Our lives would be so happy…
…but our lifespans are not long.

One of us will go first,
The other will be left,
To think of that great parting,
Oh darling, I’m quite bereft.”

Said the red bird to the gold one,
“My dear, you are quite right;
Let’s inquire of our Maker,
He may pity us in our plight.”

The two birds twittered a prayer,
The Maker heard their sighs,
Those silly little bird brains,
With their silly little cries.

He offered a solution,
“I’ll turn you into stone.
You’ll always be together,
You’ll never be alone.”

Said the red bird to the gold one,
“Come sit close to me,”
Said the gold bird to the red one,
“I’ll never part from thee.”

Thus the two birds sit in silence,
Their feathers turned to stone,
But they’ll always be together,
They’ll never be alone.

Do you think I’ll delete this in the morning?

Ahh…now I feel rested. And so do you, I hope. To catch up on the big doings of the weekend, the headline has to be that the sun came out on Sunday!! (Appropriate day for it, now that I think of it.). I had a feeling it might not last long, so I took great big gulps of it, like a huge celebratory drink. When the sun went back behind the clouds today, I was not discouraged, lads and lassies. My sun-belly is still full. Of course, tomorrow, if we’re still in un-sunlit lands, all bets are off. I’ll be back to moaning about “Day 341 of sunlessness.” At that time, one of you must give me a bracing slap in the face. I mean it! The words “In everything give thanks, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus,” are all the bracing slap that I’ll need. Apply as needed.

Other than that, allow me to share with you some photos from the last couple of days. I’ve noticed that crows tend to perch at the very tippy top of the trees. I find that rather bold, don’t you? It’s got a sort of “Lord of all I survey” kind of vibe to it. I saw three crows perched on the top of one tree, having a little meeting that was probably sinister. A group of crows is called a “murder.” Coincidence? I think not. At any rate, as soon as they knew they were being observed, off they went, so I can’t actually prove that it happened.

Here’s what happens when you spill your peas on the snow:

And here’s what happens when you take a photo of the lovely sunset clouds and realize later that almost everything is out of focus, but you kind of like the effect anyway:

You probably expected greater things from this blog after I took two days off. Oh dear. Let’s finish up with a sunny photo, which will make all things right again.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning…

I’ve got good news – I’m going to restrict my blogging to Monday-Friday and take the weekends off. Why is that good news? My dear readers, you will be getting a break from the incessant emails notifying you of yet ANOTHER blog post from me. 🙂

I’ll probably delete this in the morning…