Hurrah! A perfect new word for this recent snow walk photo:
(adjective; of a plant part) :
withering without falling off
(Big thanks to Sister #3 for the sweet word share , via Grant Snider’s charming illustration.
...for when Montana is on your mind, but maybe not out your back door...
Hurrah! A perfect new word for this recent snow walk photo:
(adjective; of a plant part) :
withering without falling off
(Big thanks to Sister #3 for the sweet word share , via Grant Snider’s charming illustration.
“It was not for her to criticize the ways of Almighty God;…. if He liked to go to all that trouble over the snowflakes, millions and millions of them, their intricate patterns too small to be seen by human eyes, and melting as soon as made, that was His affair and not hers. All she could do about it was to catch in her window, and save from entire waste, as much of the squandered beauty as she could.” - The Rosemary Tree by Elizabeth Goudge (1900-1984), p. 158
“Books are bridges, my father had said to me when I was a child. They show how we’re connected.”
-Jessie “Kit” Carson (1876-1959) in Miss Morgan's Book Brigade by Janet Skeslien Charles, p. 41 (LT edition)
“The sun filtered down through the canopy… Above its delicate, spreading branches was the sky, which went on forever, it seemed, into a thin, singing blue.”
-Mma Ramotswe in To the Land of Long Lost Friends, No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency Series, by Alexander McCall Smith, p. 90 (lg type)
May your new year be blessed with eyes to see through and beyond and more than just what seems in plain view, and to what the Holy Spirit is saying.
“God knows I was due a little Light Shining on me from Above, whether I believed in such things or not. Like most people, denying it never got in the way of relying on it. “
-Woody Nickel in West With Giraffes by Lynda Rutledge, p 75
“But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again" to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again" to the moon.
It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we."
-G.K. Chesterton (1874-1936), from Orthoudoxy
“She looked up. The sky was without cloud, a dome of lightest blue filled with air, great swirls and eddies of it, which you could see — just about — if you stared long enough. She breathed in deeply, and felt the fine dry air fill her with a buoyant optimism.”
-Mma Ramotswe, p. 85 in large type edition, The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party, a No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency novel by Alexander McCall Smith