There is nothing like the unmistakable ringing song of a meadowlark in springtime or summer. Perched on a fence post or fence wire, the little brown bird with the warbling voice and the bright yellow throat is a constant sight on the prairies and in the foothills.
It wouldn’t be springtime in the Hills without the wild, winsome tuning of this little darling.
In all the hiking I’ve done, I’ve gotten my share of ticks on me – However, I’m always quite vigilant and brush them off before they can embed. Not so today. We got back from a hike and had just sat down to dinner when I found the first one on my wrist, of all places, stuck tight. Found another on my other arm. Dad singed both of those ticks off without much ado, even though I was completely disgusted. All of us did tick checks and let the friends we had hiked with know, so they could check for ticks as well. Just a friendly head’s up. After dinner, I started thinking about my head. Mom kindly did a scalp check, which brought back lice memories, and, sure enough, there was a third. I wasn’t too excited when Dad brought over the box of matches to singe that one off!
No one else had any. I guess I was the lucky one. A hike just wouldn’t be complete without ticks.
We almost didn’t even see them, because of how dusty the road was, but Sarah pointed them out and we turned right back around to go and see them. Elk, right off the road! Before we were there, I had my camera in the right setting, zoomed in, lens cap off, and my window down, since I knew we’d probably end up startling them off.
The deer grazing with them gave a wonderful sense of perspective – Deer are big enough animals as it is, but next to an elk, they appear tiny! On the way back home, we saw the elk again, more this time, though it was almost dark out. It is a good day if you see elk once at a distance of a half mile. It is a great day if you see elk twice, right next to the road, and actually manage to get pictures of them. Beautiful, beautiful creatures.
Just a short ways down the road from where I work is Canyon Lake, and Rapid Creek feeds into this. Along Rapid Creek, upstream of the lake, is a little wooded dirt path. With the creek running on one side, and trees towering above, I could almost forget the sounds of town as I poked along in the grasses over my lunch hour, hunting wildflowers and watching birds and listening to grasshoppers. So pleasant and refreshing.
Dandelions were in abundance, and a clump or two of early dame’s rocket. There was a carpet of not-yet-blooming violets, with a couple of over-eager violets trying to bloom. Then there was the columbine! I missed good pictures of this gem last year, because of a sub-par camera, and I snapped away happily. And then I got to thinking – What is it about dandelions that makes us consider them weeds, while flowers like columbine and blue flax and shootingstar we consider wildflowers? Whether something is a weed or a wildflower depends very much on perspective. A limited perspective fails to see the beauty or even usefulness of the weed – It may be a nuisance, I suppose, and grow where it isn’t wanted, but isn’t the weed beautiful as well in its own way? Doesn’t it provide pollen for our pollinators, and color to our landscapes? 
Sometimes I view life this way. Because I can’t see or refuse to see the meaning in something or because I am frustrated with a certain situation, I consider it bad or ugly or undesirable. But might my perspective just be wrong or limited? A broader perspective, a more whole perspective, might be able to see the lessons to be learned, the service to be done, the experience to be gained, and the very real joy to be experienced if I allow my perspective to be broadened. Sometimes God gifts us with difficult or trying situations or experiences or people in order to grow us in our walk of faith and to grow us in holiness. One step of that is learning to see God’s sovereignty in our lives, in both the rocky place and the pleasant places.
I want the perspective that lets me see weeds as wildflowers.
This color blue is enchanting. 
I was so glad today to have a good camera – A year ago, I missed my opportunity to capture some pictures of blue-eyed grass, since my point and shoot wouldn’t focus!
This little beauty somehow blends right in to the forest floor. An occasional flicker of color is all that gives it away.
I would love to see a whole grove full of these.
Song Dog Journal 