Tucked Away

I am thankful for every day I am allowed to have on Pine Log.Some are better than others,some are harder than others,some are darker than others.Some you want to forget,some you go back and analyze to see what you might have done different;so,that at least,a lesson might be salvaged.Some you are willing to forget,others you pray that you'll be able to remember.Then there are certain ones that you "tuck" away,at the ready,retrievable at any time,at the right time,at the ready,when you need it most.I reach and get just such a one often times in days such as we have had these past few days.These trying days,these faith challenging days.These days when the sprint has turned into a trudge.These days when wistfulness is the permeating influence,and comfort is hard to find.On such a day,I reach,I reach into that secret place and gratefully retrieve another kind of day on beloved Pine Log.On this day my feet feel stronger as I arise and place them on the floor.The fire is built quickly and easily for those who will be seeking its comfort through the day.My legs and spirit still feel strong as I set my attention to horseshoe ridge and beyond.My spirit is lifted as I walk in the cool,but pleasant,morning air,filled with the winter song of faith filled feathered marvels.I am prompted to speak to them and all I know to say is"keep on singing my friends,keep on singing." I am not surprised when I hear something within me say, "what else can they do?" What else can they do but what they were created to do? Neither am I surprised,though greatly comforted when I am keenly aware that that is all I can do.I am on a journey that I cannot stop.I have know choice but to continue on this journey that I had no control over at the start,and I will have little control over as it begins to wind down.So I will do as I have been instructed to do on this good day on Pine Log.When I felt strong on Pine Log because of the presence of the one I see reflected in and through a place I have been privileged to visit and rejoice in "the flame." Hoping you keep some tucked away for when you need them most fro Pine Log.............................

Pine Log sunset

I scaled horseshoe ridge,a little slower,a little bit more gingerly,than usual.The late January sunset was in perfect pose,brilliant,made even more brilliant by the clear,pristine,first month cool air.The clouds along the ridge,which it was sinking behind,were transformed into luminous silvers,oranges,gold,purple.Knowing the answer,I wondered if I had made the most of the day,this Pine Log sunset was bringing to an end.I could not stop it,could not slow it,and soon it was sinking out of sight.As it did I could see it's parting effort reflected on the stark,stoic submissive trees,and was greatly moved by the scene.If there was an acknowledgement,it was not visible.It was just a reminder to them that one day a southern whisper would come and the results would be glorious,a new day,a new time.For today,stoicism wins,with an expectation of another sunrise.As I also stoically,turn to leave I am reminded of the lines to a beautiful old song,sang by departed loved ones many years ago,"there's a bright and sunny side of life," "there's a dark and stormy side too." Help me Lord to be patient and allow the dark and stormy days to cause me to appreciate the bright and sunny ones.Soon,these dark,sober days will pass and we will rejoice in the renewing.Until then we wait,like the trees,for the next sunrise.For another chance.

A song in winter

They sit on naked limbs and branches,scouring the barren landscape for a morsel of food,becoming more scarce everyday.And yet,they sing.The bitter cold north wind blows their soft downy garb in every direction,giving them a disheveled look.And yet,they sing! Their eyes,squinted to stave off as much of the cold wind as possible,reflect a hint of bewilderment and apprehension.And yet,they sing! Through rain,ice,snow,danger of predators,and everything that winter can throw at them;they sing.Their song is not forced or coerced,but robust,genuine,and even more comforting and reassuring because of the rugged conditions under which it is being performed.It is simply what they were created to do.Perhaps,in some way that we cannot comprehend,they are aware of the words of a lowly galilean,who promised that "not one sparrow falls from the heavens without the father knowing." So,armed with faith alone,they sing.I stop,dead in my tracks,marvel at the sound,at the faith,and receive my lesson.The father is telling me to listen and learn,and so I listen,and so I learn.I learn from a pure source.For they are teaching me without motive,without an expected reciprocation of money or praise.Help me father,like them,to have a song,even in the cruel winter that lies ahead.Help me to hear the words of the lowly galilean,"even the very hairs of your head are numbered." Give unto me that I might have and express "a song in winter."