Spring chicks

Our granddaughter has learned to walk around the house to see what's new. Here's her surprise for the week:

Easter "chicks" on the moss tray. Molbaks had some miniature furniture for the terrarium. I snagged an Adirondack chair and table, a lamp, and a bicycle.

I pulled some young Moroccan mint from our sidewalk outside to upgrade the "lawn", added a palm tree to lean the bike against, and left the stones in place for a stream.

I can't wait to see Kinsey's face :-) when she notices the new landscape on the LR coffee table.

 

LR before... Winter

Here's the LR before and after. We swapped to cream slipcovers. The moss tray on a Saudi Arabia embroidered cloth replaces an African elephant on a board from a Chinese storage chest.

LR after - almost Spring

Rainy day wonders

Last fall, I headed out to drizzle and came home in rain. 

Red on red

 As we walked, I stuffed my pockets with beauty.

Gingo

Sunday, I watched one-year-old Kinsey pick up fallen leaves
until her hands were full.

Dancing

On the road to adulthood, it seems we forget to look around

Mint

to treasure the simple pleasures of God's abundance.

Lace

Even the leaves were dancing this morning.

Moss tray

Now my office moss tray is bursting with color.

Granddaughter Kinsey stops picking things up when her hands are full.

Her Oma stops collecting when her coat pocket won't zip shut.

Sedum

**Oh God, thank you for beauty in the rain.**

Mossy beauty

 When the days started to turn cold last October,
I re-purposed an 13"X20" plexiglass drink tray to make a moss garden.
It invites my reflection and a closer look at nature.

Once in a while I pull out my camera phone to capture
the microcosm that lives on my desk.
Today the mosses rest, quiet and calming.

Sometimes it looks like a forest in miniature.
I see fallen logs, stream beds, undergrowth, and loam.

The moss garden needs misting each day
or it dies back.

If I leave for a few days, it looks pitiful. 

The baby tears that sowed themselves among the moss disappear
and the lush mosses turn dry and brown.

Within a few days of misting, the green and greys
spring to life and the baby tears reappear.

I wonder some times at how big and small worlds collide.
A life here, a community there, and global humanity everywhere.
The same creative thumbprint of our Creator connects us all.