Father Sky painted his sky canvas a glorious azure blue this morning and sketched some feather clouds with his white pastel sticks. Mother Nature dialed her temperature back down and put a nip in the blustery wind, feathering the feather clouds, stretching them across the horizon. My hands froze while I filled the bird feeders. Guess I’m going to have a raccoon killing. They turned over two of my bird baths, cleaned out two feeders and opened the suet basket and ate the new suet cake. Dirty little devils! I’ll grease the poles again today and they’ll head somewhere else. Threw some collard stems off the deck the other day so guess I invited them back.

The winds chimes are pinging loudly, the wind playing a happy melody on their metal pipes. It’s a wondrous loud symphony when all seven wind chimes’ tintinnabulations make music together. I’m watching the bamboo forest through the nine windows of the lady den and they are getting a Zumba workout with their wind instructor, bending and twisting in the strong breeze. One lone bamboo, taller and bigger than the others, stands straight, limbs strong, like a sentry between my house and the one next door. Gonna cut it down with Chief’s bow saw before it learns to bend my way and slap the gutters.

Heard a great quote on tv this morning. “Memories and dreams are always there and we call them up when we need them.” I think Ben Cartwright said that while I was watching Bonanza. Later I was watching Gunsmoke and sitting here looking at Rosie’s trees and thinking about the last Christmas we spent with her and Penelope jumped off my lap and ran over to Rosie’s Christmas trees and sat under them, just like she knew what I was thinking. “God gave us memory so we might have roses in December,” — JM Barrie. I’m so grateful for my memories. They give me peace and comfort.

The sun set this afternoon wrapped in a blazing ball of white light, beaming with a glorious shimmer of God’s light. When I glanced her way, I was blinded by the beauty of her formal gown. Mother Nature painted the pageant stage on the horizon, brushing a pale watercolor blush of pink as the sun walked down the runway. A beautiful glow of honey colored light followed the sun down the horizon, highlighting the black shadowed silhouettes of trees on the landscape. Father Sky tucked the sun under her quilt of peach colored clouds, bent down to kiss her goodnight, and turned out the day’s light. The sparkling jewels of stars joined the slivered moon on his navy night sky stage and eventide became nighttime.

God paints a magnificent sunset each night, one of his most beautiful miracles. He doesn’t care if we don’t see the glory of the sunset or the beauty of the sun rise. They are gifts given to celebrate the day’s ending and another day’s beginning. He shows us that even the end can be glorious. Psalm 19:1 says, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.” And what beauty is in his handiwork in the sky each day.

“God never gives someone a gift they are not capable of receiving. If he gives us the gift of Christmas, it is because we all have the ability to understand it and receive it,” Pope Francis. The greatest gift we can ever receive is the gift of God’s son, Jesus. The gift of Christmas is Jesus. If we accept Jesus into our hearts we have the light of God in our hearts. God’s unconditional love gifts our lives with love, and peace, and mercy. God’s gift of eternal life offers us a reunion with our loved ones in heaven. Jesus’ birth is the reason for the Christmas season. God gave us the gift of Christmas.

“Every day is a gift from God. Learn to focus on the Giver and enjoy the gift!” — Joyce Meyer