All Glorious!


O worship the King, all glorious above,

O gratefully sing His power and His love;

Our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of Days,

Pavilioned in splendor, and girded with praise.


O tell of His might, O sing of His grace,

Whose robe is the light, whose canopy space.

His chariots of wrath the deep thunder clouds form,

And dark is His path on the wings of the storm.


Thy bountiful care what tongue can recite?

It breathes in the air, it shines in the light,

It streams from the hills, it descends to the plain,

And sweetly distills in the dew and the rain.


Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail,

In thee do we trust, nor find Thee to fail;

Thy mercies how tender! how firm to the end!

Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer and Friend.


[O Worship the King, from Ps.104, Robert Grant, c.1779-1838]

Fluffy feverfew


Just have this song singing through my head today.  So much enjoying the coming of summer with that fresh summer day smell and berries for the picking in the garden.  Delightful! 



Covering the miles…

P1060774 It was that time again…to hop in the car and head east…come what may…to see our favorite grandbabies and their relatives…


We love the bright wide-open spaces after being so long on the coast nestled amongst green giants under so often gray skies…


Out here Angus is more than a burger; P1070005it’s scenery!


From pasture to patty they go!



Highway miles have their own beauty on the prairies…



…and their own tonic…


But in the end it’s worth the effort and the wait… just to get a few days to catch up with these little people who have captured our hearts…


And then the trek back home…with happy pictures and memories…of homemade play-doh, and swinging and singing and walks, and books and waking up to “Grandmom!”…


And at last, the final ferry home…


Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, The fruit of the womb is a reward. Ps.127:3


Quintessence of spring…


There’s little quite as relaxing as a catnap in spring sunshine in the middle of nowhere–trees towering overhead, a lone raven calling—


–unless it’s a tandem ride around “Loon Lake” with my favorite Captain…


We’ve got a blight of ‘capatillars’ this spring, so I guess it’s inevitable that there would be moths… Tiny lavender beauties flitted amongst the pebbles at the shoreline.  But when they folded their wings they were pure camouflage.

moth One irresistibly sunny Sunday afternoon the draw overcame the fear of meeting a bear and I ventured down the increasingly overgrown paths across the highway to the bluffs above the ocean—singing, whistling and clapping rocks together all the while mind you.  I just had to get to ‘the bench’ again on the rose strewn bluffs above the sparkling sea.

Thimbleberries bloomed profusely along the way…


But the essence of spring must be breathed in—the wild roses blooming in wild abandon on bluffs and roadsides.  I wish I could attach the scent to share with you.



And not a bear (the other indicator of spring’s arrival) showed his face!


For we are a fragrance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing…II Cor.2:15