nature | dual personalities

They neither toil nor spin

by chuckofish

It is daylily season in our flyover town.

As you know, I love them and their heat-loving generosity of spirit. We have had a very long wet, fairly cool spring but the lilies seem to have adjusted. They just go with the flow and fill in and keep going.

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? ²⁶Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? ²⁷And which of you by being anxious can add one cubit to his span of life? ²⁸And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin; ²⁹yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. ³⁰But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O men of little faith? ³¹Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ ³²For the Gentiles seek all these things; and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. ³³But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well.

³⁴“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day’s own trouble be sufficient for the day. (Matthew 6:25-34

Here are some pics from a friend’s blog. He has a much more diverse display than we do.

But any way you slice ’em, they’re great!

(And let the day’s own trouble be sufficient for the day!)

4 Comments

May 7, 2019

Flowery May, tra la

by chuckofish

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“Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night.”
– Rainer Maria Rilke

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April 29, 2019

“For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace”*

by chuckofish

Froggie went a courtin’…and I found him at an estate sale a few weeks ago. I planted some annuals this weekend. Hopefully they will fill in around him. I planted some geraniums in pots as well. The OM even got into the act…

We have had a lot of rain, which is great for the grass…but the violets love it as well…

…zut alors! They are considered a weed around here.

Anyway, everything is greening up nicely. I saw a big bumble bee doing his thing and the birds are building nests and the chipmunks are building tunnels.

“But ask the beasts, and they will teach you;
the birds of the air, and they will tell you;
⁸or the plants of the earth, and they will teach you;
and the fish of the sea will declare to you.
⁹Who among all these does not know
that the hand of the Lord has done this?
¹⁰In his hand is the life of every living thing
and the breath of all mankind. (Job 12:7-10)

We babysat for the wee babes and they went to bed like little lambs (?!) once we had wrestled them into their jammies (easier said than done). Then they came over for their usual visit on Sunday night and frolicked in our yard.

Be thou thyself, O Lord, we beseech thee, the shepherd of thy people; that we who are strengthened by thy risen presence may in our daily life walk with thee, and in humble trust seek to follow thee, as thou callest us by name and dost lead us out; for thy glory’s sake.

—The Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory: Services of Praise and Prayer for Occasional Use in Churches (New York: Oxford University Press, 1933)

*Isaiah 55:11

5 Comments

April 24, 2019

“And it’s all in a day’s work”*

by chuckofish

My friend Carla posted this on Facebook yesterday and I have to share it because it made me laugh 😂.

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I mean really. They evacuated the street?

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I get it. Better safe than sorry, but you gotta love it. If it’s not giant raccoons, it’s the bomb squad, right, Carla?

Another friend sent me some beautiful pictures of his redbud trees (eastern redbud tree, Cercis canadensis), noting how their blooms originate from the branches.

It has been a particularly great year for our mid-MO redbuds.

And here’s some news you can use.

*Dr. Dre (and others)

3 Comments

February 8, 2018

With gladness and singleness of heart

by chuckofish

Let us, then, labor for an inward stillness,–

An inward stillness and an inward healing;

That perfect silence where the lips and heart

Are still, and we no longer entertain

Our own imperfect thoughts and vain opinions,

But God alone speaks in us and, we wait

In singleness of heart, that we may know

His will, and in the silence of our spirits,

That we may do His will and do that only!

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, from Christus: A Mystery

The painting is by Stanley Royle (1888–1961). Don’t you like it? That winter light is perfect.

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Boy, isn’t he great?

4 Comments

January 5, 2018

Brrrrrrrr

by chuckofish

The Mississippi River freezes solid in February 1905.

Il fait froid! There are ice chunks in the ol’ Mississip today, but I don’t think one could walk across it. I certainly wouldn’t want to try! Here are some interesting historical photos of our frozen river through the years.

I plan to stay warm at home this weekend packing up Christmas decorations. But I also have two birthdays to celebrate, including daughter #3’s, so I’ll be out and about.

I saw a fox run through our back yard early on Christmas Eve morning. Maybe he’ll be back.

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Thus by the snow I was made aware in this short walk of the recent presence of squirrels, a fox, and countless mice, whose trail I had crossed, but none of which I saw, or probably should have seen before the snow fell. Also I saw this afternoon the track of one sparrow, probably a tree sparrow, which had run among the weeds in the road. (Dec. 14, 1855)

–Henry David Thoreau, A Writer’s Journal

Since it is Epiphany,

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it is time to watch 3 Godfathers (1947)–an all-time favorite.

What have you got on the docket?

The OM and I are also babysitting the wee babes. Please note that the 16 lb. dynamo is now on the move for real! Keep us in your prayers.

Have a good weekend!

The painting is “Tracks in Snow” by Morten E. Solberg.

2 Comments

August 9, 2017

The thing to do or Ewa-yea! my little owlet!

by chuckofish

Last week when daughter #1 was home for a few days and we were sitting out in the Florida room on an unseasonably cool evening, we saw a huge owl swoop down and fly through our yard. He perched on the neighbor’s basketball hoop and we sat and watched him.

After awhile he swooped down again into the grass where he sat for a bit. We couldn’t see if he had caught some poor unfortunate creature. From a distance and in the near dark he looked like a big chicken on the ground. We went outside to get a closer look, but he flew off.

It was an awesome experience. I have been out several evenings since then but I haven’t seen the owl again. I have heard some hooting, but that is all. Anyway, this all reminded me of this bit from Hiawatha’s Childhood:

When he heard the owls at midnight,

Hooting, laughing in the forest,

‘What is that?” he cried in terror,

“What is that,” he said, “Nokomis?”

And the good Nokomis answered:

“That is but the owl and owlet,

Talking in their native language,

Talking, scolding at each other.

Then the little Hiawatha

Learned of every bird its language,

Learned their names and all their secrets,

How they built their nests in Summer,

Where they hid themselves in Winter,

Talked with them whene’er he met them,

Called them “Hiawatha’s Chickens.”

–Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

This is how my mind works.

By the way, on the way home from work yesterday I had to stop my car as a doe bounded across Warson Road. Three little fawns came crashing out of the woods following their mother one after the other. None of them stopped to look both ways.

So much nature in such a short time!

At the door on summer evenings
Sat the little Hiawatha;
Heard the whispering of the pine-trees,
Heard the lapping of the waters,
Sounds of music, words of wonder;
‘Minne-wawa!” said the pine-trees,
Mudway-aushka!” said the water.
Saw the fire-fly, Wah-wah-taysee,
Flitting through the dusk of evening,
With the twinkle of its candle
Lighting up the brakes and bushes,
And he sang the song of children,
Sang the song Nokomis taught him:
“Wah-wah-taysee, little fire-fly,
Little, flitting, white-fire insect,
Little, dancing, white-fire creature,
Light me with your little candle,
Ere upon my bed I lay me,
Ere in sleep I close my eyelids!”

The illustration from Hiawatha’s Childhood is by N.C. Wyeth.)

3 Comments

October 6, 2016

“The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork.”*

by chuckofish

It is that time of year when the Monarch Butterflies appear in flyover country. These pictures are from a friend’s blog. Cool, right?

“Marvelous!” he repeated, looking up at me. “Look! The beauty–but that is nothing–look at the accuracy, the harmony. And so fragile! And so strong! And so exact! This is Nature–the balance of colossal forces. Every star is so–and every blade of grass stands so–and the mighty Kosmos perfect equilibrium produces–this. This wonder; this masterpiece of Nature–the great artist.”

―Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim

Photos by Don Sessions

*Psalm 19:1 (KJV)

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July 12, 2016

Cherish your moodiness

by chuckofish

“Melancholy Promenade” by Diego Rivera, 1904

Now I yearn for one of those old, meandering, dry, uninhabited roads, which lead away from towns, which lead away from temptation, which conduct to the outside of earth, over its uppermost crust; where you may forget in what country you are travelling; where no farmer can complain that you are treading down his grass, no gentleman who has recently constructed a seat in the country that you are trespassing; on which you can go off half-cock and wave adieu to the village; along which you may travel like a pilgrim, going nowhither; where travellers are not too often to be met; where my spirit is free; where the walls and fences are not cared for, where your head is more in heaven than your feet on earth; which have long reaches where you can see the approaching traveller half a mile off and be prepared for him; not so luxuriant a soil as to attract men; some root and stump fences which do not need attention; where travellers have no occasion to stop, but pass along and leave you to your thoughts; where it makes no odds which way you face, whether you are going or coming; whether it is morning or evening, mid-noon or midnight; where earth is cheap enough by being public; where you can walk and think with least obstruction, there being nothing to measure progress by; where you can pace when your breast is full, and cherish your moodiness; where you are not in false relations with men, are not dining nor conversing with them; by which you may go to the uttermost parts of the earth.

–H.D. Thoreau, A Writer’s Journal

It is the birthday of Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862), so let’s celebrate by reading the longest sentence ever (see above) and having some alone-time in the out-of-doors.