The Building Team

Do not despise small beginnings. 

This divine encouragement came to Zerubbabel, the temple builder. 

Obviously, He wasn't talking about spring tulip spikes 

in Kentucky. But it's surely a gardener's verse too, for 

a gardener is also a builder, similar to good ol' 

Zerubbabel. 

We're all building something or other, isn't it true? 

I'm determined to be on the building team 

and not the tearing-down team.

Although when I have found myself wearing that 

ugly ocher jersey on occasion, I rip it 

off and move on as quickly as possible.

Here's a tiny splash of the glory that resulted from 

oh, so, small beginnings. 

Two more posts on small beginnings here and here. 

I'd love to hear about your small-beginnings project and how it's coming along.

 

Glimmers of Hope

By the time winter in Kentucky gasps its last breath, 

the world has gone all gray, brown, and tan. 

On a frosty February morning, no one is spared 

a full dose of gloom.

Our dogwood tree seems to have abandoned every hope.

Yet frost sparkles shine glimmers of hope

 into the murky morning, and an

 adventurous meadowlark reminds me

 that, against all odds, spring is on the way. 

Warm breezes will soon tickle their way through wide-open windows.

Every shade of green will pierce and push away dried-leaf blankets.

The sun will reach into new corners of my kitchen and make me 

consider spring cleaning.

And what seemed to be dead will come to life again.

Clive wasn't talking about the doubtful state of dogwood trees in February 

when he wrote to Mary Shelburne in 1963: 

"There are better things ahead than any we leave behind." 
 

But I think it still works.

Turkey Talk

 It's high time to put the turkeys back in the buffet 

drawer for another eleven months. 

After all, Christmas has already snuck out of the attic

 and laid claim to every room. 

But these tattered birds hold their ground on 

our Hoosier cabinet, reminding me that 

gratitude 

never goes out of season and isn't intended to be 

tucked away in the buffet.

Thanksgiving should be a daily holiday. 

(more here and here)

So in honor of the turkeys' clarion call, 

let's continue to give thanks. 

I'm grateful for sunshine through 

boldly painted sweetgum leaves.

The last nasturtium bloom 

to withstand the ever-dipping temperatures 

is the very picture of gratitude.

May we each brave the cold as well...

with thanks.