“See how the flowers of the field grow? They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all of his splendor was dressed like one of these.” – Matthew 6:28-29
Four-leaf clovers are rare, with only about one in 10,000 plants. They’re an ancient Irish symbol of luck, believed to help people see fairies and avoid their mischief.
Over the years I’ve found a few four-leaf clovers . . . never saw a fairy . . . and have been no stranger to mischief. So much for that Celtic belief 😊
However . . . perhaps my luck is about to change.
Did you ever wonder if senior ‘Forget-Me-Not’s start to go senile and begin to forget? . . . me neither 😊. I do know they all have 5 petals and, as you can see in the picture, I found one with 6 petals!
Couldn’t find what those odds are, but I do know there’s lots more clover out there than there are ‘Forget-Me-Not’s . Consequently, I’m contemplating buying a lottery ticket, but reserving a modicum of mischief to keep life exciting . . . and my wife mildly aggravated 😊
Climbed up on the mountain this afternoon, hoping to catch sight of Bubba or Beefus . . . No luck. Evidently, they have other ‘priorities’ this time of year that take precedence to entertaining old duffers like me 😊
However, I was treated to some spectacular Nature eye candy. Here’s a couple pics of vivid red Indian Pinks and brilliant white daisies dotting the forest floor that was mine to enjoy.
No doubt the soil from which these beauties sprung was enriched in part by Bubba and Beefus ‘calling cards’. In case you’ve unfamiliar with Ursusamericanus ‘calling cards’, I’ve included this ‘fresh’ pic of one I nearly stepped in on today’s wander . . . Smile! . . . I couldn’t resist a juvenile moment 😊
On of my favorite Microsoft tools is the On This Day feature. It pops-up pictures saved over the past two decades on my One Drive that were taken on this day. It significantly assists this ole ragamuffin in remembering fond memories from days-of yore. I’ve affectionately dubbed it my AnDeHeDe . . . Anti-Dementia-Help-Device😊
Today AnDeHeDe displayed On This Day pictures from 2009. On that day Alaska’s winter was reluctantly relinquishing its grip on the landscape. Yet, this 65-year-old youngster heard John Muir’s song, “The mountains are calling, and I must go.”
Parking my ragtop Mitshubishi Tracker along the banks of the Matanuska River in Palmer, AK (233 ft. above sea level), I strapped on a pair of snowshoes. Blissfully drenched in balmy 40-degree afternoon sunshine, I happily began trekking upward towards Matanuska Peak’s 6,093 ft. snow blanketed summit . . . O, to be young and foolish again! (I’ve got the foolish part down pat, it’s the young aspect that’s disappeared) 😊
Some six hours later, miserably drenched in sweat, I had trudged to about 4,500 ft. . . . my happy demeanor considerably diminished. Gathering storm clouds had begun to block out the sunshine, and balmy 40-degree temps had now retreated to below freezing . . . time for a reality check . . . two options remained:
Immediately reverse course back down the mountain to avoid having to search for my Tracker in the dark.
Continue upward for friends and relatives to read in the local Frontiersman come summer at what elevation Search and Rescue finally discovered my frozen, now decaying, body at the base of the lone spruce tree in this last picture my camera ever recorded😊
Macho surrendered to Whimpy and, at a considerably ‘enhanced pace’, I retraced my trail back down the mountain.
Arriving back just after nightfall, the temperature now registered in the 20s. As it came into view, my little Tracker resembled the Presidential Limo . . . it’s heater never felt sooooooo good!
Looking at these ‘memorial day’ pics from 15 years ago, two things are obvious:
A snow-machine deems consideration in lieu of snowshoes as a means to transport foolish old duffers up snow-covered mountains.
Aging is brutal! . . . who is that 65-year-old youngster on snowshoes???😊
This April 23rd there’s now snow on the ground here in TN; the temps are in the 60s; and it’s partly cloudy with patches of sunshine. After church today I stepped outside in my flip-flops and took this picture of a colorful pansy, now stashed on my One Drive in in a cyber-space cloud somewhere.
Perhaps my clinically diagnosed ADHD (Attention-Deficit-Hyperactivity-Disorder) is responsible but, reminiscing my ‘memorial day’ of 15 years ago, I envisioned this vibrant pansy shedding tears of laughter, subtly inferring that in my ‘advanced state of maturity’ I’ve now become a ‘pansy’😊
Chances are I’ll no longer be residing on this planet in 15 years with the local Fire Department on stand-by as 95 birthday cake candles illuminate the neighborhood. However, the mountains will still be here, and hopefully many of you younguns’ as well. I’ll be watching from my eternal mountains resort above, wishing you Amy Carmichael’s wisdom to enjoying every day God grants you to the fullest for Him and others . . .
I was just about to call it a day and turn in last night when Ellen said,
“Quiet . . . I hear something outside on the deck.”
My wife’s hearing exceeds that of the Secret Service’s most technologically sophisticated listening devices. Without my hearing aids I’m borderline deaf, and often don’t wear them. This in enhances my chances of being granted an audio-waiver on those occasions I feel the need to claim one by stating, “Sorry Dear, I didn’t hear you.” . . . this technique no longer works work as well as it once did😊 . . . but I digress.
“It’s probably just the wind”, I assured her. “Turn on the lights and check.”
Ellen walked over and threw the light switch . . . “Bears!”
Filming a video through a window from inside the house of an event happening outside at night when the lights are on in both places results in distracting reflections, and sub-par cinematography. However, I though some of you might find this video clip of Mama and her three yearling juvenile delinquents on our deck last night chowing down on our bird feeders.
Ellen and I watched our own live Nature channel from the other side of the glass in our living room. Some might also enjoy our brief dialog exchange regarding the deck party . . . turn up the volume😊 Always an adventure living in the forest.
Today’s 89-degree record temperature woke Snappy from his long winter slumber. I found him wandering across the road . . . without looking both ways . . . and gave him a lift home.
Snapper soup with a dash of sherry is premium cuisine. We’d already ‘shelled out’ for a turkey to serve at Easter dinner, and Snappy is now enjoying his new digs in our pond . . . what’s on your Easter menu? 😊😊😊
Physics 101 teaches that heat causes expansion, cold contraction. Thus, hot air is less dense than cold air and rises, while cold air sinks.
Not water . . . this indispensable renegade of physics possesses the unique property of being denser in liquid form than in solid, so ice floats . . . Good thing! . . . otherwise bodies of water would freeze from the bottom up eradicating the sport of ice fishing, and necessitating scuba gear to go ice skating 😊
But . . . why do hot water pipes freeze before cold water pipes? . . . merely to aggravate homeowners and boost the respect, and income, of plumbers?
Physics 102 explains this frustrating wintertime phenomenon . . . the higher the temperature the more difficult it is for ice crystals to form, causing the water in hot water pipes to super-cool below 32 degrees and freeze faster than in cold water pipes.
Guess whose hot water pipes froze during the recent frigid blast? . . . Congratulations! . . . you just aced Clairvoyant 101 😊
The good news . . . opening doors under the sink; letting spigots drip; and a couple of strategically placed space heaters gratefully alleviated the problem . . . Hooray! . . . definitely preferable to being consigned to a regimen of ice-cold showers 😊
Here’s a ‘nice ice’ pic taken in the creek outside where it belongs and can freeze away! Stay warm, and
The Great Smoky Mountains has joined much of our nation’s pre-Christmas frigid cold snap . . . the coldest temperatures recorded here in a quarter century!
At our digs up here on the mountain > down in the ‘holler’ > over the ‘crick’, the temperature plummeted from near 50 degrees last evening to flirt with zero this morning . . . an ‘invigorating’ touch of the Last Frontier😊
Unlike her unhinged Alaskan hubby, my refined New Orleans spouse isn’t a ‘cool’ temp aficionado. I explained to her that there is really no such thing as cold weather, just improper clothing. She tacitly complied by layering herself in a decorous assortment of stockings, sweatpants and sweaters (pic strictly forbidden!)😊
Evidently, rhododendrons prefer warmer climes as well, and shrink from ‘cool’ temps as the pics indicate. BTW, don’t nibble on their leaves. They have high severity poison characteristics . . . that reminds me . . . I need to check my dinner salad tonight😊
May this Christmas find you surrounded by friends and family rejoicing together in His birth that conquered death. Smile😊. . . . and stay warm, happy, and healthy.