Some beauty and some words that touch my heart...

 

"He gives snow like wool; he scatters frost like ashes." Psalm 146:16 (ESV) - Woodrow Church of the Nazarene • Woodrow, WV---Photo from Christopher Morris posted on the West Virginia Heritage, History, and Memories Facebook page

Psalm 146/147

I.

1 Hallelujah!

How good to sing praise to our God;
how pleasant to give fitting praise.

2 The LORD rebuilds Jerusalem,
and gathers the dispersed of Israel,

3 Healing the brokenhearted,
and binding up their wounds.

4 He numbers the stars,
and gives to all of them their names.

5 Great is our Lord, vast in power,
with wisdom beyond measure.

6 The LORD gives aid to the poor,
but casts the wicked to the ground.

II

7 Sing to the LORD with thanksgiving;
with the lyre make music to our God,

8 Who covers the heavens with clouds,
provides rain for the earth,
makes grass sprout on the mountains,

9 Who gives animals their food
and young ravens what they cry for.

10 He takes no delight in the strength of horses,
no pleasure in the runner’s stride.

11 Rather the LORD takes pleasure in those who fear him,
those who put their hope in his mercy.

III

12 Glorify the LORD, Jerusalem;
Zion, offer praise to your God,

13 For he has strengthened the bars of your gates,
blessed your children within you.

14 He brings peace to your borders,
and satisfies you with finest wheat.

15 He sends his command to earth;
his word runs swiftly!

16 Thus he makes the snow like wool,
and spreads the frost like ash;

17 He disperses hail like crumbs.
Who can withstand his cold?

18 Yet when again he issues his command, it melts them;
he raises his winds and the waters flow.

19 He proclaims his word to Jacob,
his statutes and laws to Israel.

20 He has not done this for any other nation;
of such laws they know nothing.

Hallelujah!

Psalm 146

I

1 Hallelujah!

2 Praise the LORD, my soul;

I will praise the LORD all my life,

sing praise to my God while I live.

3 Put no trust in princes,

in children of Adam powerless to save.

4 Who breathing his last, returns to the earth;

that day all his planning comes to nothing.

II

5 Blessed the one whose help is the God of Jacob,
whose hope is in the LORD, his God,

6 The maker of heaven and earth,
the seas and all that is in them,
Who keeps faith forever,

7 secures justice for the oppressed,
who gives bread to the hungry.
The LORD sets prisoners free;

8 the LORD gives sight to the blind.
The LORD raises up those who are bowed down;
the LORD loves the righteous.

9 The LORD protects the resident alien,
comes to the aid of the orphan and the widow,
but thwarts the way of the wicked.

10 The LORD shall reign forever,
your God, Zion, through all generations!

Hallelujah!

Women, Music, And Possums With A Message

The photograph and the music don't quite go together except that I do like them both. I think that that's Patsy Montana in the photograph, but I may be wrong.

Possum Kingdom---The New Coon Creek Girls

Ground chicken, spinach, and egg whites for the dogs!

We have not posted any recipes for animals here on the blog that I can remember. My friend Sam Swan posted the following recipe that he makes for his dogs the other day so I thought that I would send it on to you all. Sam says that this is especially good for diabetic dogs.

You're going to need:

1 lb ground chicken
1/3 cup egg white
1 cup spinach
1 TBS pumpkin

Make into meatballs using a round tablespoon, bake 350 for 25 to 30 minutes, and store in a refrigerator or freezer.

Some of our relations and kin

 

"...the divine is equally present in all things..."

 

Some things to do, some things to smile on, some things to ponder

"The mountains are my bones, the rivers my veins. The forests are my thoughts 

and the stars are my dreams. The ocean is my heart, its pounding is my pulse.

The songs of the earth write the music of my soul."

"I sing because I'm happy. I sing because I'm free, His eye is on the sparrow

and I know he watches me."

These marvelous creatures sing of the beauty of creation

 

This video is taken from the My Columbia Basin Facebook page. This was filmed along Oregon's Cove Highway by Tami Gugin.

Blind Love by Sean Dietrich

Warning: This post contains details on animal abuse. It also contains a good deal about human-animal bonding and love. But if you're deeply troubled by animal abuse, this post is not for you.

I lifted this post from the Appalachian Americans Facebook page where it appeared with a byline of Sean Dietrich. The post caught my eye because I do love coonhounds. If you don't know it, there are six recognized breeds of coonhounds. If we put aside the cruelty of coon hunting we still have to reckon with a culture of story-telling, bragging, and beauty that has formed around coonhounds and their owners. It's an exceptionally lively and creative culture and very much a part of rural and working-class life. So steadfast are the relationships between these dogs and their owners that there is even a national coonhound cemetery in Alabama.

Mr. Dietrich takes us into a couple's warm relationship with a coonhound and he does that with a special skill for writing. I do understand what he's saying here. I always had a sense around the hounds that I was looking at long-ago history and deep knowledge working. Hearing them run through the forests at night, chopping and bawling as they went, so touched my heart with something akin to a spiritualty. But these dogs can do many things besides hunt. They can warm a home and melt hearts. They can help you find yourself.

My granddaddy said you can tell a lot about a person by the way they treat a dog. Someone who treats a dog badly, is a bad person. Plain and simple. A person who treats a dog with regard and deference is a good egg.

Right now, my wife is holding our blind coonhound, Marigold. She holds our pet like a baby. Not like a dog.

The Christmas tree in our den is sparkling with twinkly lights. And my wife is stroking Marigold’s head. The same canine head that was smashed in by an abuser.

Marigold’s face was struck with a blunt object. Her optic nerve scarred over. She lost her vision. The doctor removed one eye. This week, Marigold has another ophthalmologist appointment. The doctor is likely going to tell us we need to remove the other eye, too. It doesn’t work, and it’s causing too much pain.

What probably happened, the vet said, is that someone paid a lot of money for this hunting dog, a high-dollar scent hound. But Marigold turned out to be gun shy. Loud sounds wreck her. Her abuser wasn’t happy about shelling out thousands of bucks for a dog who doesn’t like noise.

So he took his frustration out on the animal. He used a hard object. A length of rebar, maybe. Perhaps the butt of a rifle. Maybe a two-by-four.

My wife is softly humming to Marigold. “I love you,” she is quietly singing.

Life with a blind dog is tricky. It’s not like having a regular dog in the house. When we feed Marigold treats, for example, you have to touch her nose and let her know you’re near. Then, Marigold simply opens her mouth wide and hopes like crazy that someone will place the food into her mouth.

“Please feed me,” is what she’s saying. “I don’t know where you are, but I’m opening my mouth to make it easier for you.”

Marigold’s internal schedule is all screwed up, too, because blind dogs can’t sense light or darkness. So they have no idea what time it is. Sometimes Marigold wakes up at 3 a.m. and starts licking my face. And I start cussing and I say, “Please go back to bed.” Whereupon Marigold barks with glee. Because there is nothing half as fun as waking Dad at 3 a.m.

But, oh, how we love this animal. And nobody loves her more than my wife.

We don’t have kids. Once upon a time, we tried to have kids, but the doctor said sometimes couples just can’t have them. As a result, my wife and I have a huge vacuum in our hearts.

Because of this, sometimes we fall deeply in love with other people’s children. And it’s embarrassing because they aren’t our kids, and people look at us funny for being obsessed with someone else’s child.
It seems wrong that people who love kids so much can’t have them. But that’s the way life works.

Our most recent dog, Marigold, has satisfied a deep paternal need within us. My wife and I have never had a deeper bond with an animal. It’s astounding.

Because this blind dog needs us for everything. Marigold can’t do anything by herself.

She needs us for simple tasks like finding her food bowl, or walking down a flight of stairs. We hold her when she has nightmares—which is common for blind animals. We talk to her all the time, so she knows where we are.

It’s been the most rewarding animal relationship I’ve ever had. Hands down. Loving this dog has changed me as a human being.

And whenever I see Marigold crawl onto my wife’s lap; when I see this woman speak softly to this wounded animal; when I see her stroke Marigold’s fur and kiss her broken skull, I feel something profound inside.

Jamie Dietrich cradles our blind dog like a mother. She carries Marigold down staircases. She holds the animal like an infant. Like a mother would.

She kisses the mangled scars where Marigold’s eye used to be.

“Oh, I love you so much,” whispers my wife. She is a woman who is filled with compassion and goodwill. And she has proven to me that my grandfather was absolutely right.

Happy 20th anniversary, Jamie.

An adventure in gratitude

I have the good fortune of having some people in my life who remind me to notice what is around me, see some of the beauty around me, and feel some gratitude and awe. It's a good exercise whatever the motivations at work. When I lived in cities or was working long hours I didn't notice much of the beauty that was around me. I looked at things as objects or obstacles or for their use value. I think that it's difficult to stop there, bad as that is. When you get on that track you start looking at people in those terms as well.

This great photograph comes from Denise Binion in West Virginia and it was taken looking out her back door. For some reason this grabs me and holds me. I'm taking it as a gentle reminder to observe, recollect, and appreciate some of the beauty we're given to see.

The differences between hares and rabbits

Friends of Malheur National Wildlife Refuge

Are you a little fuzzy on the difference between our resident lagomorphs, the rabbits and hares?This beautiful illustration by @jennewlinstudio will (hop)efully set you straight. #hare #rabbit #blacktailedjackrabbit #desertcottontail #lagomorph #illustration #wildlifeillustration #highdesert #oregondesert #greatbasin #malheurnationalwildliferefuge  #friendsofmalheur

(I'm sorry that the graphic above may be so difficult to read, but you can either enlarge it here or go to the Friends of Malheur National Wildlife Refuge Facebook page. We live in a wondrous and beautiful world that we know so little about.)

Please be kind to opossums.

It’s cold out there. Please be kind to opossums. Many of them find a cozy place to combat the cold. (so many we see are missing parts of tails, ears, toes, due to previous frost bite) and your garage or porch may be the only place they have, they won’t hurt anything, I promise, and shooing them out may be certain death due to lack of shelter. They are Northern America’s ONLY marsupial. And these precious souls eat fleas, ticks and other pests.

Please. This holiday season. Be kind. Be the change you wish to see in the world.

John Burchett's Bluetick Gracie on the Tug Fork River

I hope that Mr. Runyon does not mind me lifting a picture of Mr. John Burchett's Bluetick (Gracie) on the Tug Fork River in West Virginia. He posted it on the Friends of the Tug Fork River Facebook page. I tell readers to go there and "like" that page and support their work because it means so much to so many people, animals, and the environment. Please do that.

All of that said, I'm posting this because I look forward to seeing photos of Gracie on the Tug Fork every day. There is something about Mr. Runyon's photos and short daily blurbs about the Tug Fork that reaches right to my heart. And I remember the first time I looked at a Bluetick about eye-to-eye and knew that those dogs have a special presence and intelligence and how I loved hearing their chopping and bawling in the night. Those were spiritual steps for me because I felt connected to creation in ways that I had never been connected before.

The power of that connection has stayed with me. I'm 2800 miles from the Tug Fork now but this photo touches me in a place within that I cannot name. But that connection holds me and gives me hope over the miles. I might blush to talk about it face-to-face. Some things are better kept in the heart, but maybe you're also one of the people who has loved a dog and the land and a river.   

 

"The path to peace is never easy..." Another great poem by Stewart Acuff

I posted a poem from Stewart Acuff the other day. Here is another great poem and photograph from him. He's a deep thinker and a great poet. Look carefully around you with love. There is lots to learn in the world around us.

The path to peace is never easy
Love is action not just feeling
Justice requires vigilance and not letting go
Watch two or three songbirds mob a crow
To drive it from their eggs, babies and homes
The egret stands still and silent on stilt like legs waiting
Till its neck straightens from its snake curl striking
All day the egret waits and watches for every bite
Just as a hungry owl hunts through the night
Sometimes an entire people can act as one
When we act to defend our children and our folks' freedom.

Bummer sheep

The following story comes from Sheila Walsh, a conservative Christian writer. I picked up this quote from her from Facebook. It reminded me of an encounter I had with a Mexican shepherd many years ago in a bar in rural Colorado. I could not tell the man's age because he was so weathered, but he was much older---and much wiser---than I was. He told me a story of having had to wrap himself in a bloody and dirty sheep skin on the prairie late at night in order to save a lamb. I don't remember if he was successful or not, but I remember that he wept as he told the story.

Sheila Walsh is intending to tell a story of Jesus and saving grace, and I think that she does this well. But as I think about the Mexican shepherd in the bar and this story I also think about how the Shepherd Jesus uses disguises and human beings to do the work of salvation, and I am reminded that there are saints in this world who step in and give. I am also reminded that the story holds up if we take the parable or simile out of it. Animals are also the work of God's hands and have souls.

Sheila Walsh wrote:

Every once in a while, a ewe will give birth to a lamb and reject it. There are many reasons she may do this. If the lamb is returned to the ewe, the mother may even kick the poor animal away. Once a ewe rejects one of her lambs, she will never change her mind.

These little lambs will hang their heads so low that it looks like something is wrong with its neck. Their spirit is broken. These lambs are called “bummer lambs.”

Unless the shepherd intervenes, that lamb will die, rejected and alone. So, do you know what the shepherd does? He takes that rejected little one into his home, hand-feeds it and keep it warm by the fire. He will wrap it up with blankets and hold it to his chest so the bummer can hear his heartbeat.
Once the lamb is strong enough, the shepherd will place it back in the field with the rest of the flock. But that sheep never forgets how the shepherd cared for him when his mother rejected him. When the shepherd calls for the flock, guess who runs to him first? That is right, the bummer sheep. He knows his voice intimately. It is not that the bummer lamb is loved more, it just knows intimately the one who loves it. It's not that it is loved more, it just has experienced that love one on one.

So many of us are bummer lambs, rejected and broken. But Jesus is the good Shepherd. He cares for our every need and holds us close to His heart so we can hear His heart beat. We may be broken but we are deeply loved by the Shepherd.

-Sheila Walsh, "Loved back to life"

A prayer for the animals

Oh God, we rejoice in Your creation and in how You have honored Your creatures by giving them life and by giving each a place and a purpose and intrinsic value in Your world. We rejoice also in the natural beauty of Your world and see in this beauty a foretaste of Heaven. We beseech You to not be overly angry with us for having done harm to all that You have given to us. Forgive us, God, for the suffering that we have brought to the world that You have given us as stewards.  Inspire us to love and be one with Your creation, and may we treat all of Your creation with gentleness, reverence, and respect. May we follow the examples of Your saints Francis and Seraphim in befriending the animals. God, renew, restore, bless, and sanctify all that You have made, and may nothing and no one be lost. May Your king come and may Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. I ask this in Jesus' name. Amen.   

The Death Of A Raven And A Lesson

I have taken the following from a Facebook page that talks about crows, ravens, and other corvids. It is a sad and tragic post---be warned---but one that reminds us that we live in nature and not apart from it and that there is a wisdom within nature that we are in danger of losing if we do not remember and rebuild our place and part in the world as cooperators.  

On Thursday, I was driving into town and spotted a Raven in the middle of the highway. As I got closer, I could see that it was hit by a car. The bird was in the middle of the lane and about three miles from home. Knowing Ravens well from living alongside a family for twenty years, I suspected it was one of the pair that lives in the big old dead oak tree on the ranch next to us.

Over the years, I have watched and been a part of this family as it raised its young every year. I know its the same family because of their habits and calls when they visit the farm. They know me as I know them, the pair sit in the afternoons on the top bar that separates the horse stalls. Preening and cooing, nuzzling each other. They know me and tolerate my presence as I sit on the ground watching in amazement at their love for one another. Two big black beautiful birds, making a vast assortment of sounds, I am lucky to witness this unconditional love.

Springtime is when the pair disappears, only having the male come over every day to collect chicken eggs, if he can find them, before I get a chance. Then, in the middle of June, the pair will bring over their fledglings, gawky, trying to fly. It is so fun to watch them making runs, getting up in the air. The horses and sheep do not mind them careening above their heads. The parents are always patient and proud, making all kinds of incredible noises.

Once the babies fledge, the parents go back into their usual routine, coming over every morning and sitting on the telephone pole at the barn, waiting for me to notice them. When I look up and say hello, they immediately go into this beautiful dance. It’s a coo, a dip with their body and then they click their beaks together. This goes on for at least five minutes with changes in frequency and additions of other unique sounds. The Ravens visit every day. I love these times with the Ravens. It has always healed my heart.

But now, as I was driving into town, seeing a black thing in the middle of the road, with cars whizzing by, my heart sank. Somehow I knew who this was.

When I picked the bird up I realized what had happened. I could immediately feel it’s breastbone knowing the bird was desperately hungry and took a risk. It went for some morsel in the highway but was not fast enough to get away. I have never seen a dead Raven in the highway before, they are too smart to get hit by cars. But everything here in the west is in a desperate race to survive this incredible drought. Animals are risking their lives to find food and water. I could also see the bird broke its neck when it was hit by the car.

At first I was just going to move the Raven off to the side of the highway, but something in my heart told me to bring it back home and put it in a more dignified quiet place. I brought it out in the field next to the house and placed it in the dried grass next to Grandmother Juniper.

After a few hours, I was in the house and could here one of our Ravens outside. It was making a strange sound that I have never heard before. I looked out the window and could see the Raven was by the other dead Raven that I placed in the dried grass previously. I stepped outside and saw the Raven was next to it and talking to the other. It would nuzzle it with its beak and coo. Tears came to my eyes as I watched this unfold and realized this dead bird must be its mate and my friend. The Raven stayed with the carcass for the several hours before night, sitting in Grandmother Juniper.

The next day, as I was watering the horses and sheep at the farm, the Raven flew up and sat on the telephone pole. I told it hello. It talked back in a language I have not heard before, a set of coos, clicks and head bobs. The sounds were beautiful and quiet. My heart ached for its love of its lifelong mate.
Maybe this was its way of telling me thank you for bringing its partner home. Maybe it was just lonely and wanting a friend. It sat on the pole conversing with me for a while. And then it flew away.

I can’t help but think about all the connections there are between living things around us. If we allow them into our hearts, we can learn how to be human through their devotions and unconditional love. I know, in my quiet existence at the farm over two decades, I have been taught what it means to love.
But in all of this, I can’t stop thinking about all the lives that have just been lost in the massive wildfire that is threatening our place in Mimbres. The many horrible dramas of families; mammals, birds, insects and plants, that are in the fire’s path, trying to survive the drought but adding to that stress trying to outrun from this massive blaze. I feel as if my concern of our material things like our house in the line of this 300,000+ acre fire and ready to burn is insignificant compared to this horror.

But life is resilient, and out of this tragedy there are lessons to learn. I somehow wish that for one day, every human being on this planet would take time and see and then listen with their hearts to the beings that surround us, and understand we are insignificant compared to the immensity of all life surrounding us.

Just one day would change the world…

All of God's creatures means ALL of God's creatures...

 

“I have lived with several Zen masters..."

“I have lived with several Zen masters -- all of them cats.”

Eckhart Tolle

Taguchi Yuka - Black Cat and Morning Glory.

---Taken from the Ravenous Butterflies Facebook page

Rabbits (and chicks) aren't toys

 

An Easter/Holy Week Reminder...