The wind entertained me all afternoon as it shook brown magnolia leaves from the trees’ branches, chasing them around as they danced in the yards and street. Occasionally the fallen oak tree leaves would join the magnolia leaves for a whirlwind, twisting down the street, slapping themselves loudly on the concrete. I’m always fascinated by…

“Prayer is how we press our hands into the invisible and find the hand of Christ reaching back,” James K. A. I love the imagery in this quote. I was walking Penelope this morning thinking of prayer and thanking God for the beautiful day’s blue sky and the flocks of songbirds in my yard and…

The birds are scarce this morning, I heard them singing when I woke. Maybe they’re sleeping in, tired from singing arias all night. The day is beautiful, bright yellow sunshine, fluffy grey, white and aqua clouds floating across the blue sky canvas. Haven’t seen my cloudless sulphur butterfly friend. As the morning wanes, Old Man…

Drove to LaGrange, Georgia, this morning to have my car serviced for a recalled headlight switch. Such a pretty drive, 25 miles on a country highway under a beautiful blue sky, cloudless and clear, full of sunglasses’ sunshine. I saw a field of daffodils, their yellow blooms contrasting beautiful with the herd of Black Angus…

I’m perched in the swing this afternoon, feet up, my head resting on a bird pattern cushion, swinging back and forth pretending I’m in a small sailboat, a Jeb Ewing work of art, beautifully handcrafted from Honduran mahogany, trimmed in exotic woods colored brown and ebony and cream and pink, the boat’s crisp bleached white…

I’m perched in the porch swing this morning listening to the joyous singing of the songbirds. The warm sunshine, beaming from a beautiful deep blue sky, is kissing my cheeks like a benevolent grandmother. There is just enough of a breeze to touch the keys of the organ wind chimes across the street and ping…

Father Sky used his pastels to sketch a sombre leaden overcast sky today. He pushed and rolled his pastels in cigar smoke grays, pale purples, and blues across the heavens using his fingers to blend the colors together, leaving no room for the sun’s rays to peek through and warm the day. The bird feeders…

The sky was so beautifully blue this morning. Not a cloud in sight. As the day waned the sun bleached the blueness from the heavens and Father Sky filled his pale blue sky canvas with sun kissed clouds. The birds sang and called their friends to the bird feeders. Old Man Winter had enough breath…

The sky was so gloriously winter blue this morning, no bird wings or clouds to mar the beauty of Father Sky’s azure canvas. Old Man Winter spent the night here and his cold breath brought out dozens of songbirds to the feeders, fueling their little stomachs with sunflowers seeds to warm themselves through the day…

Go outside today and you’ll feel Old Man Winter nipping at your nose and cheeks. It was a winter blue sky, crisp cold 29 degree’s morning when I took Penelope on our first walk of the day. The sunshine yellow blossomed dandelions are still holding forth, haven’t opened their feathery white umbrellas yet. The dandelions…