A week till Christmas and
Nantucket has her first hard frost.
Ice crystals on the lichens on the garden fence.
Time to put away the outdoor projects:
And harvest the turnips and daikon radishes:
The frost sparkles on the turnips:
A generous harvest in a bright winter sun:
Lord, we are truly thankful.
Here’s the beach in December:
The stones are still warm but no children perch there,
The gulls remain. What do they eat when there
are no sandwiches to steal?
Scallops. We harvest the muscle but the gulls
get the rest.
Nantucket takes care of her own.
I wish I could convey the sounds and powerful smell
of this tremendous pile.
Not to worry, it will all be gone by summer.
And the gulls will return to their thieving ways.
Welcome to Christmas Nantucket Stroll style!
Carolers at the top of Main Street
And their audience, singing along
A ‘Dear Santa’ letter from the tree
What no kid of mine will ever get for Christmas
(well, maybe the tools…)
There were some amazing craftspeople at the
More on them tomorrow.
The biggest thrill of the day
had nothing to do with Christmas:
An International Resort reverts to her small town roots.
The doorknob statement
hand on exit, essential
summary of hopes
What’s your life mission?
Paul’s was to finish well
To fight the good fight
To endure whatever came
Proclaiming the faith
Trials, pain, suffering
God’s means of refining us
Learning to trust grace
No matter what comes
Don’t get away from Scripture
Hold tight to the Word.
The King is coming.
My usual breakfast is oatmeal.
Oatmeal does not fit in with my
‘appreciation of God’s beauty’ theme.
The actual grain is lovely but not the breakfast goo.
Here’s my photogenic morning:
Gather eggs from under this russett hen.
Her nesting box used to be a speaker cabinet.
Wash and display eggs.
Beauty is food for the soul.
Use eggs to make waffles with the waffler,
being careful not to overfill lest the stove require cleaning.
There’s no beauty in a sticky stove.
Technically, we’re in New England.
Just not the glorious Sugar Maple color New England.
Nantucket is more like:
Lots of scrub oak and bayberry.
The pout ponds are serenely pretty:
Bordered by winterberry.
The bike paths too:
Orange and yellow bittersweet,
invasive and lovely.
Red Sumac adds some color,
with ruby jeweled seeds.
There’s always pumpkins:
Little chibi head.
Soon to shine then to be made into a pie.
We all have our place in the Master Plan.