When it snows in Alabama it feels like magic.
The white stuff causes wonder and excitement like nothing else. We watch the snow as it falls and we pray that it “sticks”. Most of the time the ground is so warm around these parts that the snow melts as soon as it touches.
And it’s one of the most beautiful sights you’ve ever seen. Especially in the country. Where the cows are in the fields and the trees are big and the sheds and fences are covered with snow.
And the roads are closed because no one knows how to drive on snowy roads and we don’t have chains on our tires.
But we play in the snow because it may be the only snow we get for a few years. We build a snowman and ride garbage can lids down hills and have snowball fights.
Then we gather enough snow to make snow cream and eat it while we talk about how we hope the snow stays another day.
But it doesn’t take long for the magic to melt and we wait for it to come again.
In response to the Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge Temporary.
When I stop to take a photo it’s because something about what I’m seeing has to be captured. And most of the time it’s not just one thing. It’s the whole of it.
A shed and a greenhouse in the middle of a lush field on a hot July evening. No filters or edits needed.
The rosy sky and the emerald field. The tall grass in the foreground and the trees in the back. And the magnificent sun settling down. The beauty is overwhelming, the colors astounding……and I get to see things like this every day if I will just look.
I was walking on my country roads when I took this photo. My old country roads where I used to live. I was probably tired from a day’s work with more to do when I finished my walk. Whatever my mood when I started, I was in a better one when I was through.
Because I’m in awe. And grateful. And I pray I never get used to this.
The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the skies announce what his hands have made.
Day after day they tell the story;
night after night they tell it again.
They have no speech or words;
they have no voice to be heard.
But their message goes out through all the world;
their words go everywhere on earth.
The sky is like a home for the sun.
The sun comes out like a bridegroom from his bedroom.
It rejoices like an athlete eager to run a race.
The sun rises at one end of the sky
and follows its path to the other end.
Nothing hides from its heat.
Psalm 19:1-6 NCV
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Victory.”
How does a photo of a light pink sunrise over a foggy hay field show victory?
About 4 months ago I made a change. I wake up an hour earlier so that I can run in the morning before work.
The victory is that I run. For a long time I believed I couldn’t run. But I did it anyway. Barely, but I did it. As my endurance increased I started to believe I could run. The more I believed the longer I ran. The longer I ran the more I believed.
And now I run. I will run my 2nd official 5K Thanksgiving morning. I ran my first 5K in April. It was a significant event for me that I wrote about in a post called Run.
Another victory in this is that I made a new habit. A good habit. That first morning was hard but I did it anyway. Now I wonder what took me so long because the morning run on my country roads is one of my favorite parts of the day.
I experience all sorts of beautiful things on my morning runs. The sound of birds chirping, cows bellowing, the rooster crowing. I see the bright moon and stars in the dark sky just before the sun wakes up, or fog blanketing the fields, or glistening dew, or a light pink sunrise. And occasionally one of my neighbors sitting on his front porch drinking his coffee. We wave at each other as I run by.
We’re not locked into what was or what always has been. We can change now and make what will be better than we ever dreamed.
This victory is only the beginning. I’ve decided to move from strength to strength and I can’t wait to see what happens next.
In the country there are horses and cows. To keep them from roaming all over the country owners put up fences, mostly barbed wire.
Still, sometimes the livestock find their way out. We’ve awakened to a very large mama cow next to our front porch. Or had to slow our car down to wait on a couple of horses to get out of the way.
The fences aren’t perfect. A post will break, the wire will rust, a gate will be left open. And sometimes a curious bull wants to taste the grass on the other side and will find his way through.
But mostly the fences do the job.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Boundaries.”
I’ve walked down this country road for over 13 years. Now I’m learning to run on this road. I never get tired of the scenery. The cows always stare at me as I go by. Around the curve and up the hill is Lacy, the friendly border collie who begs for me to pet her. Then there’s Lulu, a large fluffy white dog that barks until I run past her. Going and coming back.
I used to push my youngest in a stroller down this road, while my older two rode their bikes. Now my youngest out runs me on this road and my older two have no time for bikes now. They have cars and jobs and friends they want to see.
The little old church and the newly renovated barn, chicken houses, neighbors’ homes and hay fields are on this road. I love this road.
My country road.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: The Road Taken
One evening in April I was walking on a country road. I’ve walked down this road a thousand times but never noticed this tree in the field the way I did that day. The way the sun and shadows cause the grass to be a bright yellow and a brilliant green at the same time made me stop to take it in. And the tree, though dead in places, bursts with young leaves.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Vivid.”