About four or five days ago, on an island in a granite lake, a water snake slithered from the depths to the shore just to inform us that we were more than welcome at his party, just as long as we did not pee in the pool. We got an unexpected lift from watching his brief, but playful, little water dance.
Three days ago at another nearby lake, as our canoe glided serenely across the water like a sled on ice, an otter sat on a rock and greeted us as if we had come to share a meal. We came very close to pulling up chairs at his table before he quietly slipped into the water to lazily soak up the remainder of a lingering day.
The day before yesterday, as I was walking through the woods with my dog, a magnificent Buck paused to consider whether or not we posed a danger to him. Deciding we did not, he continued to forage for a little while before walking off into the broader expanse of his own back yard.
I followed the footprints of a solitary bear cub meandering back towards my barn.
Sitting at my computer early yesterday morning, writing the next installment of ‘Coyote Tracks’, I looked up from my work to see a beautiful young coyote playfully loping up the path outside my window, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, as if nature were his birthright. Something we have all but forgotten about ourselves. It was a moment in time, but a special snapshot to file with a growing collection of other images I’ve been given to make my time on earth more enjoyable.
Gifts left on the doorstep of life.
And then this morning it’s been a mid-summer thunder and lightening spectacular. I can barely contain my sense of awe and wonder at the provision God has enabled for my amusement,