Today, I Basked in God's Creation...

The sun this morning rose in salmon-colored haziness.

Here in Northern Michigan, the snows of February and early March had settled into late-winter glaciers. But, this morning, the driveway was spongy with melting snow.  I think I heard a red-winged blackbird give it’s distinctive guttural chirps. The damps had a freshened air to them.

Later, the sky that had the early-morning palette of an orange push-up, gave way to a faultless blue sky, tinged here and there with lemon. All around, the steams were puffing off the frozen lakes, and in the afternoon, as the warming air got rolling, I actually was obliged to lower a window as I drove– the first time I’d done that, most likely, since before Halloween. At lunchtime, I noticed in my wife’s flower gardens the first tips of the crocuses peeking out from under last years coconut bark, sniffing the air. Spring is breaking.

As I walked out the front door of a clients’ restaurant later this afternoon, I noticed the little rivulet in the storm drain nearby. It reminded me of my long-ago and glorious childhood, floating little pine-cone boats in the snow melt of so many springs ago– making dams with the slushy snow, and then watching the water pool behind them, and then breach the sloppy walls, and the waters would tumble in the gutterpan like a Lilliputian Jonestown. The sap would be running. The earth is once again coming to life.

The world is on fire, yes. Ka-da-fee (however the heck they’re spelling his name this week) is running roughshod over his people. Japan is a disaster. The currency is teetering on the brink. Our Republican lawmakers are turning out to be as feckless as we feared they might. The US government breathed today, and went another $72 Billion in debt. But, hey, at least we cut $2 Billion. The Middle-east is about to explode, and our Fearless Leader is hamming it up for the basketball crowd. Ho, hum.

But, today, I noticed that, pace King Solomon, it is all vanity, vanity. No matter how much I worry about it all, God is still in control. He still packs a mighty punch, especially when a spring sunrise hits you, and the glories begin to open all around you.

God, what a lovely place You’ve given me to live. Thank You for today.