It’s a quiet unmolested mornin’. Only the song of a few sparrows flittin’ here and there fill the air. ‘Cept the grouchy sound of a Bell’s vireo, chatterin’ and gripin’ over some happy bird’s life.The smell of spring mingles with the aroma of fresh brewed coffee sittin’ on the stand next to me. Hard to resist taken a seat in my favorite back porch chair. Ahhhh. Jes plain peaceful. I’m sittin’ relaxed, quiet; listenin and breathin’ the Lord’s good air. My elbow bends, automatic like, to draw up a sip of that steamin black brew.
My eye catches movement above me. Cat like reflexes turn my head up to the edge of the porch roof; pointy little nose, whiskers shining’ in the sun light and two big eyes embedded in a furry little face are leaned over the edge. A Fox squirrel is starring me down from his loft, about five feet up. His head disappears in a few seconds, then reappears. Seconds later…gone again…but not far. He takes to the air from the roof to the fence line. He scampers across the top of the fence and catches the first branch he sees. Up he goes, into his element.
The tall standing Red Oaks, Post Oaks and Black Jacks are nothin’ more than a maze of trails and back roads to that little ol’ Fox squirrel…just a playground. Gray coat and golden belly, the little feller winds his way through that maze of limbs and branches, dodging leaves and Jays.
He chatters his way along a crooked, snarled trail of branches and twigs. Up one limb, down another; leaps four feet onto a tiny twig that would hardly hold one of those sparrows. I see panic in his eyes as he is scrabblin’ to land on another more suitable perch. Then he stops. Tail twitchin’, curlin’ and straightening. Off again. In a flurry of furry moves he disappears into that leafy maze – I’m lookin’ at branches movin’ but he’s clean outa sight.“Now, Lord, where you recon that little feller is headed?”
Much to my surprise, the Lord answered me. “Well,” he says, “I ‘spose the same place as you.”
“Huh? I mean ‘xcuse me Lord?”
“Whatcha got planned for your day pard? Lots of runnin’ and scramblin’, tail twitchin’ and nail bitin’ leaps onto thin branches? – That little feller is jes doin’ what I created him to do. How ‘bout you?”
Now, a smart man knows when he’s licked. Liftin’ my eyebrows into those trees, lookin’ jes over the back lip of that cup I’m drawin’ up to drink from, I take a long slurppy sip of hot coffee. Thinkin’ real careful like.
A feller needs to consider carefully what he’s fixin’ to say to the One who created all I’m takin’ in this mornin’. I’m thinking’, “Better get this right Doc.” A few quiet moments pass.
“Well, Lord, I’d be pleased to be at your disposal today. I’m gonna spend some time in this Book of yours by my side and I’ll be listenin’ to what you got to say.”
“SHOW ME LORD, WHAT I WAS CREATED FOR TODAY.”
Whatever I do Lord; I’ll do it with all my might and give my all to honor you today.
(Ecc 9:10; 1Co 10:31)
(c) Photos & Verse according to RWHollar
March 31, 2017
Boot Heel Ramblins 