To enjoy the song of spring, it cannot be played on an iPhone or any other artificial electronic device. That would be an insult to your ears.
To see a male rose-breasted grosbeak look you in the eye and hear him bicker at you for being too close to his turf is a very intimate moment.
To feel a warm whiff of air gently shake May apples, quiver bluebells, and hear their friction on grasses surrounding them is sacred.
To hear the squawk of 3 blue jays flying above your head at great speed, only to catch a quick glimpse, is like having secret sparkly jewels in your pocket.
And that one lonely chorus frog, in a muddy stream, who solemnly sang to himself…. well… he wasn’t alone. I considered myself blessed, grasping his tune in my heart.
This is the song of spring.
I thanked the Father for being saturated in His love.
Nature is healing. Technology cannot compare.
so true, technology can never compare. beautiful.
lone birdhouse hanging in the wind … two wrens have claimed it for their children
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