The birds sang at the “early service” this morning-not just the steadfast mocking bird, but all of them, that call the rabbit patch, “home”. What an occasion, it turned out to be. The air was mild and had a sweet fragrance, known only to spring. The breeze was slight and just enough to stir the tiny, new leaves of the sycamores. . .and in the meantime, the gentle light of the morning sun rose over the old barn. I lingered a while, sorting through my thoughts . . . sifting out the unfavorable ones. Depending on the day, this can take a while.
A clear conscience is invaluable. I find, that the older I get, the more I realise this. It may be the most significant thing to strive for, after all. Of course, “letting your conscience be your guide” demands that we examine our heart, first and foremost. It is a vexing mystery sometimes, without proper dedication. I have sifted out some less than honorable notions, from my own heart and been utterly surprised to have housed such things. It is one of the reasons, I attend the “early service” and walk by rivers . . .and frequent fields and woodlands. These institutions do not allow me “to put on airs” nor harbor falsehoods, but instead seem to wield the sword of truth, somehow lovingly. For this reason I “take to the woods” frequently, like a “repeat offender”, ought to.
I am at the rabbitpatch this weekend. This means housekeeping-which includes the territory-and Sunday dinner. For me, this is a delightful agenda. I may try to find some more geraniums for the porch, but circumstances (like weeds and laundry) may not allow such an indulgence. I always have “high hopes” in the morning, however.
Later in the Day . . .
It will not come as any surprise to loyal readers, that I ended up painting. First, I painted the “welcome lantern” at the back door and then a birdhouse. I remembered how dingy a small cabinet, in the den was looking, so I moved it out from the corner, to work on that. The cabinet is especially dear to me, because it was a gift from Julie-a dear friend. It had belonged to her grandmother and was used in the kitchen. I use it as a book cabinet. When I moved it, I was greeted with cobwebs and dust. I set out to remedy that and ended up on a ladder. One thing of turns into another at the rabbit patch-but it feels good that the den is at least cleaner and brighter than it was yesterday.
While the paint dried, I worked a bit in the “Quiet Garden”. The rabbit patch is starting to come in to its’ glory, I noticed. The roses are laden with new leaves and the young dogwood, that bloomed for the first time, the day Lyla was born, is full of promises. I tied a new ribbon on the lamp post, and there by the lamp, a single pale pink tulip was blooming. After a very long winter, suddenly it is spring!