It’s been a blustery month. The March winds have put their stamp on our corner of the world—and on my hair. (I have yet to experience a good hair day.)
After church on Sunday, I came home, changed clothes, and stepped out into the backyard where a hundred gifts awaited. There was the sun, playing hide-and-seek with the clouds, the shadows moving across the lawn, like children at play. On the fence, the thermometer read a warm 81°, yet the calendar says it isn't even spring.
Then, there were the cardinals hopping anxiously about in the branches of the red-tip bushes (that are now, alas, the height of trees). Every spring, the cardinals are back. While we aren't looking, they build a nest and manage to keep it hidden from us all season long. They're just so stinking cute.
But the gift that captured my attention more than any other was the unmistakable sound of music. As each gust of wind pushed through the trees, the little wind-chimes picked up the pace, moving in perfect rhythm with the breeze, transforming an ordinary yard into a symphony of sweet notes.
Until next time, sweet friends, enjoy the gifts that surround you, and thanks for keeping me company here.
Linking up with Mary at Little Red House