A deep twinge of sadness overcame me as I watched the clearance of an old oak tree that had helped mark the seasons. Rough weather several weeks ago hurried its end; it harbored rot and could not withstand recent heavy winds and rain.

Perish the thought I saw any similarity between its loss and so much of what is familiar, friendly, and departing as quickly as the sick old oak.

The good news is that the home owners will have so much more sun for heretofore impossible to grow plants and grass – new markers of the seasons’ passing.

I wonder if some lucky carpenter can use all that oak for wonderful creations.

sadness

The passing of a friend

Another twinge overcame me as I finally got around to cutting sunflowers for the house; I was about five days too late – this twinge was annoyance. I could have been enjoying them sooner! (The balloon lasted longer than the roses.)

sadness

The look a bit droopy

But I had little time. I was busy painting earlier in the week . . . and listening to great books.

sadness

Antidote for sadness

Currently I am listening to Davis McCullough read 1776. Revisiting the account of how America started reminds me much good can come from confusing scary times; especially when good men and women help each other.

Good men and women are helping their neighbors in Minneapolis. Whatever sadness and annoyance darkened my imagination today, reading about some seasoned citizens are doing revitalized me. I hope this link will brighten your day, particularly when you think about how old some of these good neighbors are: Riots in John Piper’s Neighborhood.

“There are no people on earth in whom a spirit of enthusiastic zeal is so readily kindled, and burns so remarkably, as Americans.” ― David McCullough, 1776

Lord, heal our land, please — and renew Your church. Make us useful, joyful and wise.

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Thanks for sharing!