water

The Creek

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

There is a little hollow with a bubbly creek running through it. You can find it if you listen.

A lovely jaunt through some meadow grasses will get you there.

The gentle willow trees sway and beckon, “Come, and sit a while.”

The only sounds are nature’s chatter and the swish of grasses and wildflower stems as they rustle against booted feet making their way to the water.

A slight dip in the path and you are there.

The gurgling creek splashes happily over some stones and fallen, decaying branches. The rivulets and tiny waterfalls rush and dash through the haphazard obstacle course.

On the opposite side of the creek the paws of the early risers have left their unique imprints. The routine of it is calming to consider.

The bank of the creek is dotted with a variety of wildflowers, all adding their color and charm to the hollow. Small yellow flowers on their tall, leggy stems seem to love the chaos of the breeze that randomly tosses them about. The purple-y blue flowers growing close to the ground create a lovely and fragrant carpet. Bold white flowers lift their faces upward to the patches of sun filtering through the drooping willow branches.

Downstream the water has slowed and taken on a lazy pace. Widening into a small pool that flows gently around the roots of an old tree, one wonders what creek dwellers make this restful pool their home.

At the edge, tiny fish dart in and out of watery shadows and the quick Boatman skip atop the quiet water. The grumpy, red-orange crawdad silently waits under a ledge of roots, motionless and spying.

Little plip-plop sounds come from the far edge of the pool – small frogs perhaps?

The tranquility of nature with its calming rhythms of sound, light and timeless order soothe and quiet a restless soul. The pull of it is ancient and constant.

Accepting the willow trees’ invitation to sit for a while, the weight of all you have been carrying lifts and floats – up, up to One who gives rest and peace. He is there in the light that sifts through the branches giving warmth and safety.  He can be found in the cooling breezes that kiss and skim the skin. The Divine whispers and sings all around you, as He leads you beside the still waters and restores your soul.

Something About the Rain

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

There’s something lovely about the rain, isn’t there? That moment when the first anticipated drops touch your face, hair, eyes.  Refreshing. It brings joy, despite a fully or partially cloud-hidden sun, trying to peep through. You know it’s there, the sun, but it’s hidden. It’s a bit mysterious to wonder what the sun might be up to up there, veiled from sight.

Or hearing those first drops on the patio cover in the wee morning hours; pattering, plopping; like a sky-song flowing down. So soothing, as I lie in bed. The blankets covering me, I am enveloped in warmth and safety, listening to nature’s lullaby.

Sometimes the dreary sky and rain damp air offers the unmistakable scent of clean; washed and rinsed; a sort of gentle, yet sometimes fierce and unrelenting, opening of the heavens; as if Creator is gifting a new start, a clean slate. All is well, the old is gone and here is the new.  Life giving water. Living water. Ancient and elemental.

The sound of the faithful pattering, dripping and beating of a good steady rain soothes and gentles the spirit and often my hectic mind, with nature’s rhythms; like an intentional chorus put on repeat. Truly one of my favorite sounds and scents.

Something about the rain dredges up childhood memories of wildly exciting, yet terrifying thunder and lightning storms, windows rattling and trembling. Such an electric feeling of exhilaration and fear, joy and safety; intertwining emotions that shouldn’t mix well together, but they do, when nature moves and does her thing. It is deep and wild. I love it.

Memories drift up of hot summer days, when a sudden rain storm cools and refreshes with the unforgettable scent of rain on hot sidewalks. That is childhood.

Something about the rain and wind and the slashing at trees, rose bushes and the apple tree reminds me that not everything in life is predictable and controllable. It’s not tamable and quieted and soothed, but roars and bucks and thrashes at the whim of the One who commands it. There is such beauty and raw power there. It is thrilling and terrifying; beautiful and fierce and unrelenting as it does the Creator’s bidding, yet it draws me in. Nature, all of it, in its pure undiluted elemental form, nourishes my soul like nothing else. It’s a God-gift I treasure and ponder. The mystery of it speaks depth to my soul. I will never get enough of it. There is just something about the rain…