Well, so far until today. This morning snow covered the ground. Last night big wet flakes hurtled toward earth with intention, accomplishing their mission. But ah-ha, they were soon undone. Terra firma remains warm enough to melt loosely formed flakes. When outside temps reached the forties the snow didn’t stand a chance. However, now it’s mid-day and the sky imps are at it again. I see big fat snowflakes bombarding the world outside my window. Nothing sticks, and I’m kind of grateful for that. Mid-October is too soon to face a winter wonderland. Late November, mid-December would suit me better.
I have no worries. The sun will come out again tomorrow, or maybe even later today, and dry up all the land so we can get to the job of raking up millions of golden, rust, and russet colored leaves. Every season has work attached to it: planting, weeding, mowing, raking, shoveling. Some jobs are more enjoyable than others, but each is rewarding. My dahlias are still offering spotty dabs of bright colors. Mums are like mop tops of varying hues, and marigolds bravely raise their orange, yellow, and red trimmed heads. All of the flowers stand against the wind, sleet, snow hoping against hope that jack frost will hold off and let them live a bit longer.
I’m wondering if snow showers make rainbows like rain showers? I’ve left my place at the computer several times to check that out, but no, all I see in the sky is beautiful sunshine lighting up the golden leaves clinging to this maple tree.
all nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world; I rest me in the thought
of rocks and trees, of skies and seas; his hand the wonders wrought.
Yes indeed, fall is fickle, as are most of the other seasons. They are beautiful and good one day and frightening and terrible the next. People are kind of like that too. Only God is all good, all the time, and this is his world. It is his creation and we are his creatures. I’m thankful for a good God who loves, protects, uplifts, and chastises.
This is my Father’s world; oh, let me not forget,
that though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world; why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is king, let heaven ring; God reigns, let earth be glad!
The second verse of this lovely hymn speaks of all creation singing God’s praises: the birds their carols sing, the morning light, the lily white — everything declares their maker’s praise.
And God shines in all that’s fair. I like that.
In the rustling grass I hear him pass. In gentle breezes and booming thunder, I’ve heard him speak. To me.
Yet I’m as fickle as the next guy or girl. I don’t always live in the reality of his presence with me. I’m not every minute or even every day listening for his voice, following his lead, or basking in the relationship I have with him through his son Jesus. So, I’m grateful for reminders: nature, wildlife, weather, music, and people. Especially people. I’ve never seen God face to face, but I’ve seen him in the faces of his people. He shines when we do good, when we love one another, when we help the needy and lift up the down trodden. He shines through his people, and that’s a beautiful thing.