Our Father's World

"Look at the ripples they make," I said to Howard as I pointed to the small armada of ducks on the pond.  "Like little motor boats," I mused, then, "or paddle boats, I should say," realizing little webbed feet were pumping madly under the water to produce their rapid progress.

Suddenly I spotted more ducks hidden in the small cove at the end of the pond.  They must have spotted us at the same time, and as dozens fluttered skyward, I could see the regal green helmets of Mallards, the band about the neck a royal circlet above the velvet brown of breast feathers.  What a beautiful sight!

Glimpsing something white at the other end of the long pond, I used the binoculars to see  three unusual  ducks with bright white bodies, glistening black heads and black tail feathers. Perhaps the Tufted Ducks or Scaup Ducks I found when I tried to look them up, they were different from the ones ordinarily at the pond,

The temperatures have moderated the past few days (even if the clouds and dampness of possible rain make them uncomfortably chilly to me!), and with the disappearance of ice from the water's surface, the ducks are back.  Yesterday Howard and I hiked to the top of the levee for an up-close-and-personal view, although there weren't more than a handful ducks that day.  They had found a small pool of ice-free water at the bank's edge.  Today they have "elbow room."

We had been exploring the "valley" at the bottom of the property, picturesque with huge boulders and the stream below the pond.  We could see the goats, horses and burros across the dividing fence on the hillside of the adjoining farm.  Climbing up toward the stacked shelf of huge, flat rocks behind a shed, we noticed a set of recently placed stones on newly excavated earth, a stairway in the making.  Evidently a project by our kids for easy climbs in the future.

At the top of the rise among winter-stark, gnarled trees that line the pond is one I call the "Lover's Knot" tree--two trees, really.  Their trunks are intertwined in an embrace, the botanical hug giving way to arm like branches lifted to the sky as in joyous celebration.

Isaiah 55:12 speaks of praise, even in nature, when it says, "For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands," looking forward to the time when Jesus returns and things are like in the beginning.  Until then, I can still enjoy nature!