Another World

  "All the heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display His craftsmanship. Day after day they continue to speak; night after night they make Him known. They speak without a sound or word; their voice is never heard." Psalm 19:1-3

  The harvest is under way. A pan full of tomatoes from the garden, celery, peppers, garlic and fresh basil is roasting in the oven. The best and easiest way to make spaghetti sauce! Cook it hot and leave it undisturbed until the veggies start to char. Once most of the water is roasted away, it all gets pureed with an immersion blender. The easiest couple of hours where the oven does all the work.

  The black currents are frozen in bags, waiting for the last few berries to ripen. When they are all picked, it's time to make black currant syrup AKA Ribena. It's a delicious addition to ginger ale or club soda. Just in time, too, the last bottle from last year is nearly gone.

  It was wonderful to be away again for a couple of days to visit another friend of my friend. They live beside the Gull River about two hours north of here. It's a beautiful area where the multicolored granite of the Canadian Shield erupts from the ground. The shimmering, twisted layers of pink, gray, red and black are offset by the deep greens of cedar and pine forests. Occasionally, a flash of sky and shadow appears in the numerous lakes, ponds and streams which dot the land. 

  The Gull river runs quickly, deep and smooth. The water was warm and a pleasure to swim in to get away from the heat and humidity of a mid-summer's day. 

  The variety of pebbles along the river bank is utterly fascinating. No color is forgotten or missed. The silty sand which wraps your toes in softness sparkles in the rippling sunlight of the shallows: a light show of stars beneath your feet. 

  I also heard a bat! It wasn't the echo location sounds heard as a child. It was more of a squawk. There were two of them flying close together so I figured it was one telling the other to back off their air space. They did sound rather annoyed. If bats hear sounds we don't hear, this must have been a very, very loud objection. I couldn't help but smile.

  This mini holiday leaves me with much to be thankful for.

  I am thankful for the childlike awe and wonder that leaves me transfixed by a pebble held in the palm of my hand. It is never the same twice no matter which way it is turned.

  I am thankful for the blessings of the river. For being cooled off. 

  I am thankful when my heart dances with the morning mist.

  I am thankful to have heard a Green Heron's cry. I'd never heard one before.

  I am thankful to have learned how to be still and free my senses. These joyful times and places become postcard memories, saved for those days when the Black River runs deep.

  

  I am thankful the Lord gave me a gift of awareness on so many different levels. I am thankful, in such precious moments, I can forget my troubles and get lost in God's most wonderful creation. At times, I can almost hear singing in the ripple of water, and in the leaves stirred by the faintest of wind's whispers..."Praise and glory and honour be to God, the One who made us all!"

  AMEN!