The sun spread its rays against the eastern sky and a cheerful blue reflected back like slow-spilling paint. The blossoms reached up to drink in the goodness and I raised my lens to capture a beauty I could never explain with a thousand words. A perfect indigo backdrop, a sun-kissed glisten, a cool breeze, a fragrance I wanted to bottle forever. I lowered my camera and with tears brimming, I worshiped the Creator who loved me so much that He drew me outside to share it with Him.
It's a couple days later, our Sabbath, and we rest inside and rejuvenate for the coming week. It's supposed to thunder-shower today and we sit quietly and feel pre-rain humidity wafting in through the open window. Then I remember the blossoms. Molly and I venture outdoors with pruners in hand and accept the gift of a few dangly twigs from Him. Since this girl is my collector, she relishes in the activity and excitedly helps me arrange them into vases and Great-Mama's slightly chipped, antique jug (my favourite). Molly prunes unneeded leaves and dips the stems into place. She carries them each to the proper table or window.
We stand back and admire His handiwork. Suddenly a grey day is brightened while pink and lilac blossomy joy fills dreary places.And in the silence Molly exclaims, "Now we're rich!"
