Thursday, October 2, 2014

1/2 of a 1/2

Here in Georgia it's that time of the year--mornings and evening are Edenic. Humidity's assault is weakening, and the oppressive heat of July and August is losing its power to wilt all things living. Lawns, once needing to be mowed twice a week, are slowing down in their production of chlorophyll, and no longer grow so fast you can nearly hear it stretching for the sky.

I just returned from from outside. Each morning and evening I put out corn for the deer. Perfect temperatures surrounded me and The Shire. Earlier today I mowed and piled dead limbs that gusty breezes frequently shake from the trees, scattering them at their will. They will be delightfully re-purposed in a ring of stones. For now, however, not a leaf of the willow trembles or flutters, and only the faintest of rings curve out upon the pond spoiling its perfect complexion. Birds are singing.

Halfway up the horizon, one-half of one-half of a waxing moon hangs suspended in the dim stars of the heavens. A few days from now it will be full-orbed. Beyond description is the beauty of this place in the midst of the brokenness of this world. I try not to let this truth become dull to my physical or spiritual senses. It could all be gone tomorrow, but today, I revel in its gift.  

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