Discovering the Wonder on a Walk with Maggie

The tiny yellow/orange spider was mighty busy spinning his web, so busy I was hesitant to set up the shot for fear I might frighten him/her.

He (she?) is no bigger than your fingernail, and the reason I spotted this gem is because the web was being constructed head-high to a walking human. I had no choice but to stop, unless I wanted a face full of silk.

Quick like a bunny (hardly), I pulled out my phone, set the camera on 20x, and was quite pleased with the quality of the picture.  Truth be told, I should have made a video of the process playing out in front of my eyes, for it really was fascinating to watch.  It appeared to my untrained eyes that occasionally mistakes were made in the construction; the spider would stop, take apart a finished section, and set about building that section anew. I am not privy to a spider’s thinking process, but I was appropriately amazed.

A brief glimpse of blue as I walked with Maggie across the field.

Walking on, Maggie by my side, scanning the area, high and low, for more wonders, when briefly, ever so briefly, my eyes caught sight of blue among the greens of grass, so subtle it was that, had I not been paying close attention, I would have missed it completely.  Down to my knees I went, then on my stomach for a closer look, and joyfully my eyes spied a delicate forest, make that mini-forest, of blue flowers, perhaps an inch in diameter, at  most, held aloft by delicate stems, tucked into the fine green of the field, most likely the result of a bird unable to carry the entire load to its nest, dropping a few random seeds, and the randomness produced a shimmer of blue in a sea of emerald.

I have since been informed that they are Prunella vulgaris, a lovely little healing herb, and isn’t that just too cool for words?

Ch . . ch . . changes . . .

A change, apparent to those looking, one of those get down on your knees and look closely sort of things, one bush, some leaves browning and withering, other leaves still green and vibrant, the perfect metaphor for the changing of the seasons, as though Mother Nature can’t quite make up her mind whether she wants to continue summer or succumb to fall.

The birdhouse tugged at my heart.

I confess to having a fond place in my heart for old and weathered. I love old barns. I love old cabins.  Where one person sees a nightmare of reconstruction and remodeling, I see a vibrant history, part of the fabric of life.  So it was, then, when I looked up and saw an old birdhouse, a replica of a cabin in the woods, several hundred years old, perhaps, complete with front porch, a railing, cedar shingles, ravaged by time but still standing tall, taking on all that nature has to give, and I thought what a lucky damned bird it is who lives in such a mansion.

Magical trees, begging little children to climb as their parents once did, as their grandparents once did, a tradition as old as civilization, me thinks, trees must be climbed and to hell with the possible negative consequences, reminding me of times long ago when my parents forbid me to climb up on our roof, no doubt about it, punishment would be forthcoming should I ignore the directive, but ignore it I did, because kids gotta climb, a law of nature not to be ignored, for to ignore the calling is to erase an important portion of your childhood, that portion which leads to discovery, if only inner discovery, “damn, I did it, I climbed it,” and the reward is a warm glow, the warm and fuzzies, and ain’t that just grand?

Maggie nose to nose with an alpaca, I wasn’t fast enough to capture the moment, skittish little thing, won’t come near me during feeding time, not even after nine months, but sees Maggie and strolls over to the fence, howdy do, she says silently, and Maggie returns the welcome with a wet snout and a private conversation.  Animals, man, ya gotta pay closer attention to them, cuz I do believe they might be smarter than we are.

It all happened within a half hour, total area walked, maybe an acre, no more than that, and I just highlighted the wonders I saw during our brief little stroll, and why in the hell more people aren’t out doing the same thing is beyond me, completely and totally beyond me.  Not enough time? Too tired? Something on Netflix they just had to see?

I’ve got concerns, y’all, serious concerns, maybe I’ll share them with you in an upcoming sermon.

Send me a reminder, won’t ya?

And, for those asking, departure date is now September 16^th.  Not sure where Maggie and I are going, not sure how long we will be gone, but on the 16^th we are getting in the car and pointing it in some direction.

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Thank you!