A Single Drop of Water

Pooling at the tip of a bracken fern a drop of water held tight. It held on just long enough to freeze in place. Suspended in air until the sunlight came through the trees and brush. It held on for a bit longer, waiting. Suddenly the sun came through and shone its warm light. The droplet basked in the glory of the morning. As it stayed in place, still and fragile something incredible happened. The sun became a reflection through this little drop of water. Reflecting its majesty and becoming a miniature sun itself in the process. Oh, that I could be a single drop of water reflecting the beauty, majesty, warmth and life of the Son.

Little Red Wagon

Riding the bumpiest, loudest, most multi purpose thing on wheels. Something a person has imprinted on their memory for the rest of their life once experienced. Some of the best times were had being pulled in an old wagon. Loaded with treasures and climbing on top of those treasures, then away onto the biggest adventure ever! This is childhood.

A Raindrops Journey

Falling, falling, falling. Raindrops soaring from clouds above. Blown this way and that by the gusts of wind in the air. Gravity pulling them towards the earth below. One droplet here, one droplet there. Hitting the treetops and collecting on fir needles and branches until too heavy to balance. The droplets let go once again falling, falling…gathering size and strength as they knock against trees, leaves and branches. Water pooling in random recesses and then finally rolling off onto the ground below, splattering into tiny mirrors everywhere. Spreading across every accessible surface and waiting. Waiting to be seen reflecting the sky that brought it a beginning, waiting to fill the green earth with life. A raindrops journey.


Old fences hold so much life and textures all by themselves and then when there is something stark and contrasting like barb wire it draws me in. This fence line calls me back over and over. The aging wood with its light green lichen reach to the damp air like fingers, moss blanketing tops and sides. And the webs. The spiders sending their silk all across every possible surface with dew drops defying all laws of gravity. Beautiful things.

On Bended Knee

I have taken enough bad photos to have learned to take several shots of one thing to cover all my bases. Often this means extended time on my knees in almost anything. It seems like a good place to start. Not afraid of being dirty or what others might think if they see you kneeling in the wet ground. Looking for the beauty God has provided wherever it is and being confident enough to not care how it might appear. I should consider this in the rest of my life goals too. Being humble enough to start on my knees and there is not too many other ways to go, but up.

A Fungus Amongus

Lost in Time

What was this building for? What was stored there, who framed it and put a roof on it? When was it built? I imagine being in farm country it held its share of farm equipment and hay. Before the land started to retake it there must have been many stories unfolding under this roof. I love these old structures and the history they hold. At one time a family decided the sacrifice time and money to build this and now it is left as an afterthought. Always pushing for the underdog I adore these things. I love making up the stories that would go with them. Someone sitting on the edge of the upstairs, drinking their beer after a long hard summer day. Looking across the acres of farmland and the work accomplished. A job well done. Satisfaction in the labor, relaxing a bit before heading in to start all over again the next day. That is what I see.

Grass of the Field

“If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will He not much more clothes you…?” Matthew 6:30. We have this field out by our Church, right in the middle of town, in the middle of a new housing development. Someone thought to throw in the dirt the most beautiful wildflower seeds. We drive by and I rubber neck all the way past until the are out of view. How could something so beautiful be stuck in the middle of construction zones and new roads? I finally took some time to stop and photograph it as best as possible on the fly. Just stunning! God made something so temporary so beautiful, can He not care for you and me? It is humbling to remember this in such a tangible way. Why must I be so anxious? What is it that I think I am going to accomplish or control being worried? Absolutely nothing good, only illness and fatigue. Be at rest, trust in the Almighty and His plan.
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