Sunday, June 22, 2008
I know that this looks like a painting, but no man created it--God did. It was the view we had this week out one of the windows of the log cabin we rented. No phones, no TV (but a DVD player for movies,) six warring hummingbirds over a feeder, a huge deer, and annoying little "bob white" quails who didn't let up their cry from sun up to sun down. It was perfect.
I could wake up to this every morning, but no, I live in a different area of Indiana. Just down the road from this cabin was a sawmill. That brought back memories of my Granddaddy in Tennessee who had owned a lumber mill. We have a lot of deer around where I live, but it seemed to me we saw more deer there. Maybe it was because they showed up alongside the road quite a lot.
What was a bit humorous were the six hummingbirds who fought over the tiny hummingbird feeder the owners had hung on the porch. They dove at and chased each other, zipping and buzzing with their distinctive tiny battle cry. It was a constant weave and bob, hit and miss. Occasionally one would sit at the top of the feeder, seemingly trying to "guard" the booty. I used to have a hummingbird feeder at my house and had forgotten how selfish and territorial these birds were. I remember saying to them, "Look, I've given you enough food, and there's plenty more where that came from, so you can share!" But they didn't listen. Not at all. Kind of reminds me of probably how God views us--seeing us impatient and selfish--and trying to tell us that not only does He give us plenty to share, but also gives us renewable resources.
I got tired of watching the hummingbirds. They seemed to be a violent sort of bird and wore me out. Thankfully, God doesn't give up watching over us.
I never got tired, however, of the changing skyline from the porch. The sky was always changing and it was so big. I itched to paint it as I saw it. I wanted to somehow capture the changing colors, the swirl of clouds, the wide open expanse, the changing landscape from season to season, and I longed to see it every day. That would require me to move, I suppose.
It was a view that reminded me of my previous home. It made me miss the big double rainbows off my back porch there, hanging in the sky over the horses grazing in the valley. I often wondered how such a view was still intact after so many had moved into Indiana and built so many houses, buildings, roads. Why didn't someone else settle in that spot? But there it was--pristine as back before people moved here and started settlements.
I had no fears as I looked off my 1863 log cabin porch safely tucked into and surrounded by modern civilization(somewhere out there,) but I know there were many fears for the pioneers before me who would've been living on that land back in the 1700-1800s. Weather, starvation,illnesses or accidents without Lifeline helicopters or drugs to prevent infection, hostile neighbors, and even wildlife would pose threats to life. I don't worry about those things too much, even though I suppose they still loom. I really don't worry too much about anything. There is a peace of mind that really passes understanding. I guess even the pioneers before us could've had my peace of mind since they had access to the Bible.
I'm so glad I was able to go this past week. I had a great time. Now I'm back in my own home, fussing and thinking about things that I really wish would go away. (My dog is at this moment begging to go out and it's raining out.)And my mind still wanders back to this scene-- I still want to capture it myself with paints or colored pencils, but maybe I'll just cherish it in my mind where it will remain as I saw it. For one thing, I have a lot to do (like take out my desperate dog Lizzie.)