The Heavens Declare

Posted on May 24, 2016 by Laura Lindblom under Photography, Scenic

A sunny morning gave way to clouds in the afternoon, and by evening a gentle thunderstorm had rolled in. For a good hour and a half or two hours, we enjoyed a steady May rain, which in turn gave way to an awesome western sky, flaming with sunset. A rainbow glimmered in the eastern sky. What a testament to God’s wonder and power and might.

Psalm 19:1

The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.

Psalm 147:7-9

⁷Sing to the Lord with thanksgiving;
    make melody to our God on the lyre!
⁸He covers the heavens with clouds;
    he prepares rain for the earth;
    he makes grass grow on the hills.
⁹He gives to the beasts their food,
    and to the young ravens that cry.Job 5:8-11

⁸“As for me, I would seek God,
    and to God would I commit my cause,
⁹who does great things and unsearchable,
    marvelous things without number:
¹⁰he gives rain on the earth
    and sends waters on the fields;
¹¹he sets on high those who are lowly,
    and those who mourn are lifted to safety.Romans 1:20

20 For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.
Those words, without excuse, should be haunting and convicting. Convicting, because how often do Believers see the works of God and dismiss them, either because we are used to them, or because there is a “scientific” explanation, or because we have hard hearts? Haunting, because many people on the earth today have no excuse for their unbelief, yet persist in unbelief. But God in His great love and mercy has given us a way to know, deep within our souls, of His existence, His power, His might, without ever needing to be told. Just look around. The Heavens declare.

No Place I’d Rather Be

Posted on May 23, 2016 by Laura Lindblom under Photography, Scenic, wildflowers, Wildlife

The first day of my week off was spent almost entirely outside – The way I like it! Gardening, yard work, and other activities this morning, mowing until dark this evening, and a hike this afternoon to see if any water was still running in Battle Creek. Boy, was it! It roared pleasantly through the canyon and the deep-cut creekbed, a chocolatey, muddy brown. Wildflowers are blooming even more now, and the brush and forest were alive with bird life. My cellphone battery died on my hike, so I walked very carefully on the way home. I’ve never seen a rattlesnake on the Hole-in-the-Wall trail, but I didn’t want to find my first one and not have cell access in case of an emergency!
Blue-Eyed Grass What a wonderful day to be spent outside, enjoying the quiet and serenity of the Black Hills, the wind in the pines and the tall grasses, the vivid sunlight, the flashes of wildflower color, the shimmering green of the aspens. No place I’d rather be.

At Evening

Posted on May 18, 2016 by Laura Lindblom under Photography, Scenic, wildflowers, Writing

While the sun was still high above the horizon, I fled to the outdoors, drinking in the evening coolness and the warmth of the slanting light. There was a delightful sense of apprehension or urgency – Light is the life of the wildflower hunt, and every day is a hunt when wildflowers are in bloom. So I chased the light.
From shadowed hollow with golden pools of sunlight, to warm and brilliant hillside, I followed the sun. It streamed through the slender trunks of pine trees, sparkling on threads of spider silk, casting long shadows, illuminating like glass the transparent greens of young grasses, the fiery fuchsia of shootingstar, the milky white of deathcamas, the sapphire of bluebells.
Tucked deep into the taller grasses in a sheltered place, larkspur violets spread themselves out in the evening light, some of them the palest of lavenders, others a deeper purple. Pussytoes grew like groves of tiny trees. Clusters of ballhead gilia caught the light in their tiny white flowers and on their velvety stems.
Catching sight of grazing deer ahead of me and over a little rise, I stopped suddenly and sat down quietly. Hastily and silently I changed my lens, and slipped the camera bag to the ground. I crawled closer, hoping to sneak up on them, but I got over-eager and they hightailed it into a ravine, their white tails waving like flags. Every time I see a herd of whitetails, their white tails bouncing and waving, I can’t help but think of the sense of humor of our Creator!
The sun disappeared behind the hills, and a dusky cool settled into the trees and over the hills. Grandma’s house was just over the next hill. When I walked home from visiting with her, it was dark, with the faintest turquoise still tinting the horizon. Lonely birds called and echoed. The stars were dim in the light from a brilliant moon. I opened my arms to the moonlight, as it trickled through the trees and silvered the whole landscape like a heavy frost. Perhaps it would freeze, but the warmth of the day still lingered in the air.

Evening disappeared with the sun. Night had come.

May Day Blue

Posted on May 1, 2016 by Laura Lindblom under Photography, Scenic, Wildlife, Writing

Yesterday I mused wistfully that Harney Peak frosted white would have been stunning under a clear blue sky. The drive to church this morning didn’t disappoint! We’ve hardly seen the sun in the last week or so, but this morning it finally decided to come out and wake everything up! Amazingly enough, we had left sufficiently early for church this morning so that we actually had time to pull over on Palmer Creek Road on Hwy 244 so I could snap a few pictures.
Other than on Harney Peak and the rest of the high-elevation hills which were glazed with frost, everything has greened up, refreshed by the rain and snow we’ve had over the last couple of weeks. Over the next few weeks, spring will truly come rushing in!
Twitterpated birds are busy nesting, making a racket in every tree. Goldfinches have gotten their summer plumage and no longer look scruffy, and bluebirds flicker brightly in pastures and from fence post to tree to shrub. Meadowlarks are back to sitting on fence wires, singing their little hearts out – What a life!

This really is a glorious time of the year. What other time of the year can one enjoy the serene beauty of winter and all the fire and life of springtime, all in the same day? And I’m really so glad we live in a world with color. God didn’t need to create color. But He did.

Winter Lingers

Posted on April 27, 2016 by Laura Lindblom under Photography, Scenic, Writing

When I woke up yesterday morning, there was snow on the ground and continuing to fall from a heavy-clouded sky, a wet snow, melting and puddling in the red dirt of the driveway, but lightly coating everything else. I ran outside in my summertime footwear, refusing to go back to socks and boots. “Cold feet, cold feet, cold feet!” I scraped an inch or two of slushy snow off the truck, then ran back to the house for my camera. “Cold feet, cold feet, cold feet!” What a change from our 80-degree weather on Friday and Saturday!
The driveway up to Highway 40 was a fairyland. Trees were silvered with snow, grasses were bent and covered. The springtime landscape was muted and softened and pale. Low-lying cloud cover obscured hills and hilltops, altering the scenes I am used to on my drive in to work. I’ll have to admit, on Monday I wasn’t looking forward to the snow that was expected – But something about a quiet snowfall always changes my mind. The magic never fails to enchant me.
Snow and rain fell pretty much all day yesterday, as temperatures hovered in the 30s and 40s. When it finally warms up, how green everything will be! On the way home, I drove in and out of places where the snow was clinging tenaciously. Higher hilltops had snow on them, and the tops of trees were frosted over.
Living in the mountains, even relatively low-elevation mountains such as the Black Hills, the weather patterns are unpredictable and extremely changeable from one town to the next. As I drove home from church on Sunday, I drove into rain a mile or so outside Custer, as a pickup truck covered in 2 inches of snow whizzed past me the other direction. The snow and slush increased a few more miles down the road, then tapered off as I approached Mt. Rushmore. And at home, it was sunny and springlike.
I love the varied weather and the hesitating entry of each successive season. At this point, I am fully ready for springtime, the sun and the warmth that chases away the chill. But for now, winter lingers. Might as well enjoy it.

Where My Heart Sings

Posted on April 19, 2016 by Laura Lindblom under Photography, Scenic, Writing

There is nothing like the sweet fragrance of the piney evening air. I caught myself time after time stopping to close my eyes and breathe deeply. There was a years-old memory I was chasing, buried in the familiar perfume, but I never quite caught it. It was a good memory, though.Clouds billowed from over Harney Peak, which was veiled in mist, and the horizon burned with hues of rose and gold and blue. The air was still, and the hills and trees echoed with the sounds of birdsong. Turkey calls could be heard valleys away – The males are busy strutting for their ladies this time of year. The sharp drumming of a flicker on an old dead tree was followed by a glint of grey and rust, and wild laughter as he flew into a deeper hollow. After a week in the urban plains of Illinois, my heart was aching to be back here, back where the scrubby grasses aren’t yet green and the little prairie flowers are just beginning to bloom. I hungered for the towering pines, the billowing mountain clouds, the long red grass, the golden snakeweed, the rusted barbed wire fences, the red dirt roads, the familiar sight of antelope or elk or whitetails or mule deer, the distant glimpses of the Badlands. I lay on a bare hilltop, watching the sun burning behind the billowing clouds. Perhaps someday I’ll find another place where my heart is this alive, but for now it is here, here in my beautiful Black Hills. I’m so glad to be home – Back home, where my heart sings.