We wanted our exterior doors to be steel for all the usual reasons.
Steel has superior strength, no warping and better insulation.
Those things took priority over appearance.
A white steel door just does not have that rustic feel we were after.
As a matter of fact, there is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING rustic about cold white steel.
So you think you want to start feeding hummingbirds. Sure, they are fascinating & fun to watch, but you are about to hear the raw truth you need to know before you commit to feeding these delightful little creatures.
Do you remember how you felt the last time you walked through your door from a difficult day and were met by an overly exuberant dog?
And in the blink of an eye, all the troubles of your day melted away.
There is a wicked and deadly beauty at 17 degrees below zero accompanied by twelve inches of snow. I have discovered an earthy side to me that loves the challenge of Mother Nature.
At 5:20 am and 17 degrees below zero, most events are canceled – leaving most of us to snuggle under heavy blankets or to sip a steaming cup of coffee with our toes in fuzzy slippers.
Not able to sleep due to worrying about how the animals survived the night, I am pulling on boots over wool socks and zipping my Carhart in preparation to go check on them.
On my way out the door, I am slapped in the face by a blast of frigid air. Still dark, I find the profound silence most gratifying. At these temperatures, the air itself sparkles in the beam of my flashlight.
When all the animals are counted and comfortable, my mind is free to wander.
I wonder if the sparkles in the air could be what some call “Stardust”.
On this morning, I am thankful for freeze-less faucets, as the water flows freely into my buckets.
While the buckets fill, I stand to straighten my spine in preparation for the lifting to begin, topping off hay bunkers and filling tubs of water.
The water heaters are failing to keep up in these temperatures.
There are thin layers of ice that need to be punched through so the animals can drink. I am grateful for waterproof gloves.
With animals fed and watered, I find the path of least resistance in a tire track that provides a narrow pathway through twelve inches of snow back to the house.
Halfway there, I stop to admire a crescent moon in a crystal clear Missouri sky…. I have come to appreciate crescent moons, more so than the full moon. The full moon drowns out the light of the stars. The crescent moon allows them to sparkle in their own light.
Overhead a midnight blue fades to a brilliant ribbon of cobalt on the horizon with the promise of a new day.
This is a beauty that is rarely seen.
At this moment there is total solitude, the only sound is of my rhythmic breathing. A serene sense of peace washes over me. Is this God’s way of putting my life into perspective?
There is contentment in knowing that all this glory is always here. It is always here even when we do not see it. It was here long before we discovered it, and it will be here waiting to bless those who come after us.
Standing there, in that thin tire track, all alone, I am overwhelmed with gratitude.
Gratitude to God for putting me in this moment and place.
Gratitude for the ability to appreciate this stillness, this peace, and the magic of this morning.
Gratitude that there is a heaven and to be lucky enough to be able to experience a sliver of that heaven right here, at this moment.
Gratitude to have my animals as an excuse to step out of my comfort zone, out of my warm bed before the break of dawn for this experience.
I am lost in the gratitude to be able to sense the spirit that lives here.
Suddenly the shrill howl of a lone coyote pierces through the crisp morning air, snapping my mind back to the frigid temperature.
Fearing the closeness of the coyote forces me to pick up my pace walking back to the warmth and safety of our house.
One day, when my body fails me, I will delight in reliving my life in moments like these.
Until then, I look forward to getting back out there tomorrow to greet another new and glorious day.
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All thoughts, opinions, and photos are my own.
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