Words are inadequate yet I must try . . .

A symphony being written. Cardinals chirping.

Three fledglings coming and going from our feeder. Chirps quiet, hesitant.

Parents’ chirps frenzied as their young spread out across the yard. Becoming constant as the fledglings venture further and further from the nest.

The symphony builds as other birds’ songs fill the relatively cool air. Percussion added by a woodpecker’s rapid fire tapping on a neighbors tree.


A wren walks through the grass under our towering pecan tree’s canopy, over forty yards from side to side. Branches exploding with leaves. Branches that just a few short months ago were empty, lifeless.

Hues of sunset filter through the neighbors trees. A symphony of colors adding to the symphony of sounds.


A spot of light catches my attention. Takes me back to childhood evenings, chasing fireflies. This one comes closer, without reservation. Light ahead of impending darkness.


I, a child quietly enjoying the created world of her Father.

Peace. Praise. Prayer.

A child enveloped in her Father’s love.

Renewed. Encouraged. Filled.