It rains the evening of my birthday and I run out to the back yard in my bare feet with an umbrella and a camera. It is the way the sun is loving the day goodbye—all amber and shine…leaving wet kisses on budding tree branches and garbing the forsythia with studded diamonds. I have to step out in it; I have to gather up these gifts somehow. I would shed the umbrella and dance a rain-soaked waltz if I wasn’t holding that precious picture box.
So I just try.
I try to catch the warm glow of love the day has given me. It is right here before me, let down by the Father’s hand but somehow… somehow it won’t be captured.
So I just look intently…notice how each droplet clings. How each petal shimmers. How the sky is on fire. And, yes, I think…how I read Him here. How the earth crescendos at the end of this day with His glory.
I’m a morning person and happiest in a place with no walls. Give me a bed of grass and a blanket-sky and I will dream deep in wonder. But a good story takes me to this place too. And a poem? Even better. You can always find me here. Or connect with me on on facebook, twitter, or pinterest.