Things are getting icy around here. This morning I took a photo of a perky little brown sparrow sitting atop the shepherd’s crook that holds our bird feeders:
He was too quick for me, but now that you know he was there just milliseconds before I took this photo, you can put him there in your mind. To make up for that photo fail, I offer proof that the squirrels have not been able to vandalize our suet feeder this year (yet):
Frankly, I haven’t even seen them trying to get at it, which makes me wonder if there’s something wrong with either them or the feeder. Is it possible that they’ve conceded the victory to me without so much as an attempt or two? Perversely, I think I would have been happier to see them trying desperately to get at the suet and being stymied by my ingenious wire workings. Silly me.
At the other end of the day (which is coming way too early for me) the sunset was peeking enticingly through the frosted glass pattern on our front door.
In a strange and surreal way, this photo makes me think of Psalm 19, which says:
In the heavens, God has pitched a tent for the sun.
It is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
Like a champion rejoicing to run his course.
It rises at one end of the heavens and makes its circuit to the other;
Nothing is deprived of its warmth.
If you look at it just right, you could imagine that the sun is returning to its tent for the night, having finished its daily work of warming the world and hearing the voice of the Lord saying, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
There really is a reason why I named this blog “Lynniebeemuseoday.” Sometimes that’s all you get – musings from the meandering mind of Lynniebee. Thanks for meandering with me today.
I’ll probably delete this tomorrow when the sun comes out of its tent rejoicing like a champion to run its course.
Lynniebeemuseoday 