If there was one thing I wish I could see from my big library window, it would be a direct view of our sun when it rises. What I can see is the colorful results in the scattered clouds above, but not the brilliant sun itself. Right now the sun has been “up” for a few hours and making an amazing picture in the front yard.
Let me explain. On the east side we have a row of ugly pine trees. I call them ugly because all the trimming I do will not improve their appearance. We have removed the lower branches, making it easier for my husband to mow under the trees. You should hear the noise when he mows in that area. It sounds like he is mowing rocks, but it is only little pine cones.
There are two advantages of these 20-foot, ugly trees. One, they make a tall privacy wall and two, the odd-shaped branches allow streaks of sunlight to fall across the lawn. I wish you could enjoy the scene with me now. There are long, black shadows on the lawn; but in other places the green lawn also glows with long, yellow stripes of sunlight. In the far background by the pond, the three white birch tree trunks are shining so very, very bright. It appears a spot light is on them. Right outside my library window, the red twig dogwood looks on fire because of the brightness of the sun. The effect isn't the same when the sun is high overhead.
Wow! What I just said would make good material for a sermon. Darkness, Son, Brightness, Sun.
My husband has always said he wished he had wild rabbits in our yard, but we know our dog wouldn't allow that very long. I wish you could have seen the two bunnies in the front yard last night. They were black and white with long, fluffy fur. We didn't get a second look because the mother rabbit and the bunnies hopped away very fast as soon as we saw them or they saw us, whatever happened first. I hope they come back again. It is strange to see rabbits after all the years we have lived here and never seen them before. Years ago we had a red fox with a long bushy tail living in the neighbor's barn. He wandered around our filbert orchard, but he only stayed for a couple weeks. That thought just reminded me of a lady in our church in the '50's who wore a 'dead' fox cape or stole. Poor fox! I guess I better not say that I have a mink jacket.
I hope you see something unusual this week that you can share with me.