Thursday, October 19, 2017

Just Outside My Door

Sometimes we travel long distances to find beauty and that can be very enjoyable, but,I'm a firm believer that beauty can be as close as just outside the door.
All pictures in this post were taken, either through the window of my door, or while sitting outside.

An American Redstart is enjoying a bath at the little fountain I have.

One of the many Painted Lady butterflies we had around this summer.This one is feeding on the nectar of the Mums on my deck.

A regular and very welcome visitor, the Black-capped Chickadee also enjoys the fountain.

A bird bath sitting on the deck railing, draws many different birds.Once again, the Chickadee stops by for a drink and to sing me a quick little tune.

No sooner has the Chickadee left and a Red-breasted Nuthatch also wants a drink.

I will say that this is an immature Chipping Sparrow,but welcome a correction on that.Either way, this little fella enjoyed the fountain as well.

Closing Thought:
Heavenly Father, You have put us here to enjoy and ponder Your marvelous creation. May everything You have made remind us of Your goodness, love, and care.

Saturday, October 14, 2017

More Minniwasta Trail Sights

For this post,I once again invite you to join me on a walk along the trail at Lake Minniwasta.
I have included a trail map at the end.I walked a very short part of this trail.I have marked the distance with red stars.
Also,from here on I will only include the words to an old hymn, written in 1844 by Henry Alford.
Canadians have officially celebrated Thanksgiving,but my friends in America only do so next month, but in my opinion, we should be thankful every day.

Come Ye Thankful People Come

Come, ye thankful people, come,
Raise the song of harvest home;

All is safely gathered in,
Ere the winter storms begin;

God our Maker doth provide
For our wants to be supplied;

Come to God’s own temple, come,
Raise the song of harvest home.

All the world is God’s own field,
Fruit unto His praise to yield;

Wheat and tares together sown,
Unto joy or sorrow grown;
First the blade, and then the ear,

Then the full corn shall appear:
Lord of harvest, grant that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.

For the Lord our God shall come,
And shall take His harvest home;
From His field shall in that day
All offenses purge away;

Give His angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast;
But the fruitful ears to store
In His garner evermore.

Even so, Lord, quickly come,
Bring Thy final harvest home;

Gather Thou Thy people in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin,
There, forever purified,

  1. In Thy garner to abide;
    Come, with all Thine angels come,
    Raise the glorious harvest home.

Come Ye Thankful People Come