Saturday, January 28, 2023
An Opera as a Graphic Novel?
Tuesday, January 24, 2023
Blue Stripes: Madagascar Vanilla Cacao Water
Friday, January 20, 2023
Something Stirs in the Night
A rustle comes from deep in the dark of the desert. No, several rustles. Small and swift. Jackrabbits, maybe? The sound isn't right for a heavy javelina. Just turn to the side and take a look and see. There, in the light, a swarm of slippery critters, teeth gnashing in tandem. Perhaps their small size will be enough to keep you safe.
But oh, what's this? Something louder but just as quick. Maybe a slender, muscular mountain lion this time? Is that what haunts the hollows bellows the saguaros? But no, those cannot be raptors so fierce and so bold? Never have I heard of raptor desert-dwellers--unless they be the birds-of-prey type of raptors.
Just then a tearing, ripping noise enters in. Maybe accompanied by a snarl. Or was it a gurgle of pleasure? For just there, in the next patch of light, a feathered raptor dips into its moonlit dinner while its hungry friend approaches with hopes of communion. Let the unholy feast continue so long as the toothed mouths are filled with something other than you or me. Let's just try and keep moving, hope they haven't seen us, aye?
Alas, however, the last sound we hear is the loudest of them all. Surely no desert creature was ever so big as this. Two mountains of teeth and claw stand poised against each other, with the fell full moon between their jaws. Muscles ripple beneath scales and limbs stiffen in preparation for the conflict. Never was such a fight as this seen in the Sonoran--at least not for many years. If we were not so affrighted for our lives, perhaps we would be honored. Let's run now, shall we?
Pictures taken at Dinosaurs in the Desert at the Phoenix Zoo.
Friday, January 13, 2023
To the New Year
New Years can be times for reassessing. Some years, I'm so excited to put together a new year's post about the perspective I want to keep to in the new year. But this year I've let half the month go by without posting anything at all. I think perhaps part of the reason is that I am too busy living to spend time chronicling the hopes--the hopes are here. I don't say, I hope for this or I hope for that. Instead, I say, I have this or am doing that. So I haven't been itching to post my thoughts--because I have been speaking them.
With that being said, however, I do have my new year's post here at long last. I think perhaps this year I'll reorganize my posting schedule. Years ago, I would post every other day. Then I switched to Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. By last year, I started just trying to get two posts out per week--and I stayed very flexible on that. So I think I will go with the two posts per week idea more fully now, keeping the flexibility but also planning for it a little more than I did this past fall/winter. I still need to rethink which days of the week might be best.
As far as general themes for the year, I have been so focused on identity the last couple of years. I needed to reset and remind myself that my identity stems from God, from who he says I am. And I want to continue that, of course. But now I think I am shifting more towards living things out. I spoke in abstract terms, in the starting place, at the core or base. Now I think I am building out more. You put on your clothing in the morning--and then, all dressed as yourself, go out to face the day. I'm moving past the morning, past the bridge--I think 2023 might just be the new day. And in the new day, I want to remain thankful. Sometimes it's almost easier to cry out to God during the storm than to keep acknowledging him as the giver of every good thing in the bright, sunny day.
So this year I think the theme this year is reverence toward God through every season. He is the guide through them all.