March, ‘21, at a Windham farm
So the first thought after the morning devoirs was, thank you, God, for warmth. The sun shines deceptively, bestowing its energy on icy winds to announce their cold intentions in varied bursts and volumes. I am grateful, Lord, for this small room with its cozy little gas stove and tinking electric bar heat— a noise I don’t love; for layers of sweaters, some gifted by sisters which raises warm memories of them; and especially for a small, soft warm dog curled asleep in my lap in his own little black t-shirt snug under his blue blankie.
So why the peacock pic this am? Not sure. Was texting SB about bluebirds, which you will see on the other blog, when this guy popped up in old photos. He certainly is a reminder of the beauty and color of Your creation, Lord, yet another material reminder to give thanks. He’s also the common symbol of vanity, one of my own “personal best” weaknesses. It, strangely, can afflict me with lack of generosity and fear of losing by giving. “I’m keeping all those tail feathers for myself thank you very much.” Lord, lead me out of my Scrooge syndrome, and forgive me my trespasses.
Bless all those in need. Bless my loved ones. IJN
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