The season of summer is coming to a close. Autumn is chasing away the heat, and bringing a fresh current of breeze that flows through the trees and makes them whisper a song of gratitude.
The glow of summer will fade, the rapidly growing green grass, the fruitful green trees and the gardens; they will all wither.
“For the grass withers and the flowers fade, but the Word of our God stands forever.”
I thought I would share a few verses from the Bible that I stumbled upon during my morning study.
” I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
And in His word I do hope.
My soul waits for the Lord
More than those who watch for the morning—
Yes, more than those who watch for the morning.”
My Bible study leader was talking about waiting on the Lord to bring the right mate for you, instead of dating a million guys and watching as each one of them take a piece of your broken heart away. She explained that we wait on the Lord for simple things to. Once, while she was at the beach, she got up before sunrise and went out-of-doors to wait for the sun. Slowly and gradually rays of light broke the darkness and a golden glow filled the clouds. But she had to wait for quite a while. Well in Psalms, I believe David is saying that we must wait for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning and he will do what he has promised in his Word. He will never leave us nor forsake us.
“Let your conduct be without covetousness or fear; be content with suck things as you have. For He Himself has said, ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
“So may we boldly say:
The Lord is my helper;
I will not fear.
What can man do to me?”
The day was brimming with typical summer pleasures: a bright blue sky with cotton ball clouds, fields of green, and peach ice cream. The short orchard trees were adorned with perfectly round, golden and crimson balls of fruit. Taking the large pail provided, we set out under the sunny smile of the sun to pick juicy peaches.
The day was what you could call a perfect sunny afternoon.
Each of us spilled with eagerness to pick the perfect peach. Barely ripe, slightly firm, yet glowing with rich colors. The heavier the peach the more juice your slice will hold.
Hidden beneath the shaded branches, unseen beauties slept silently and undisturbed, waiting to be found by the explorer willing enough to climb under the low arms.
I couldn’t help but take many pictures of the humble little treasures and their vivid colors.
The red bucket rapidly began to fill with peaches until the pile grew to the top. Many little hands helped as well :D
The sweet scent of summer peaches made everyone barely able to resist taking a bite, but soon the towering bucket was in the trunk and we were driving back to the front of the orchard. We had picked enough fruit to last for quite a while, all throughout the remaining days of summer at the least.
It was a wonderful day and my first day spent peach picking. I still remember driving off into the sunset licking the melting peach icecream cone in my hand.
I hope you and your families have spent some of your summer days enjoying life in the great outdoors.
To view the rest of my peach pictures please visit: My Photography Page. Thank you for reading! Wish I could send you some peach pie! lol.
The other day my family and I took a trip to the park. I didn’t have my best camera with me, but I was able to take a few “okay” shots. Hope you enjoy them.
The field was full of dandilions. Make a wish!
My brother goes around on the merry-go-round.
The old unusable basketball hoop caught my attention.
A train passed by while we were there.
My favorite part is the tire swing. It always has, it always will.
Just outside the park, I captured a fallen log in the woods.
Well, that’s all for now. Thanks for taking this little trip to the park with me.
|by Thomas Carew (1640)
|Now that the winter’s gone, the earth hath lost
Her snow-white robes; and now no more the frost
Candies the grass, or casts an icy cream
Upon the silver lake or crystal stream:
But the warm sun thaws the benumbed earth,
And makes it tender; gives a sacred birth
To the dead swallow; wakes in hollow tree
The drowsy cuckoo and the humble-bee.
Now do a choir of chirping minstrels bring,
In triumph to the world, the youthful spring:
The valleys, hills, and woods in rich array
Welcome the coming of the long’d-for May.
Now all things smile: only my love doth lower,
Nor hath the scalding noon-day sun the power
To melt that marble ice, which still doth hold
Her heart congeal’d, and makes her pity cold.
The ox, which lately did for shelter fly
Into the stall, doth now securely lie
In open fields; and love no more is made
By the fire-side, but in the cooler shade
Amyntas now doth with his Chloris sleep
Under a sycamore, and all things keep
Time with the season: only she doth carry
June in her eyes, in her heart January
“To Daydream”, By Me
To wonder and dream, to ponder many things
To let your mind wander to and fro
Down a path were roses grow
And thoughts take flight on golden wings.
In the night of winter, nature slept as soundly as a bear in its cave. But as spring was born, the fields bloomed with rich color and the glow of Marigolds. The air carried the scent of sweetness wherever it roamed and the clouds allowed the sun to peek over their gloomy curtains. I longed to lay in the tall grass among the buds and pretend I lived right there with them. The thrasher called to me from among its little hollows in the overgrown grass. The bullfrogs and crickets beckoned me to bury my toes in the moist, fertile dirt. The rabbits played among the wild flowers and begged for me to join them. But still I could not answer their call. For life’s duties held on to me strongly and would not loosen their grip. Perhaps I would find time for the frolic of daydream in near future.
Poem of the Week: “Will There Really Be a Morning?”, By Emily Dickinson
Will there really be a "Morning"?
Is there such a thing as "Day"?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?
Has it feet like Water lilies?
Has it feathers like a Bird?
Is it brought from famous countries
Of which I have never heard?
Oh some Scholar! Oh some Sailor!
Oh some Wise Men from the skies!
Please to tell a little Pilgrim
Where the place called "Morning" lies!
I have chosen this poem as the poem of the week. If you really search between the lines you begin to realize how beautiful and personal this text really is. I am singing this text in the song called “Over the morning” with my choir. It is a beautiful, heart-touching song.