I always feel bad pulling out the dozens of maple tree seedlings from my flower beads. If I didn't, I'd have a forest in my yard. We did leave one in about 13 years ago and it is now one of the tallest trees in my yard.
I was sweeping the front porch and came across this fellow:
I look at this and see a horse head, do you?
I moved him to my hanging basket of petunias so he would be safe. And just as I stepped away, a hummingbird came for a drink! No picture though, he was in and out in seconds. Timing is everything, you know, so I was glad I was there to see him, no matter how brief the visit.
When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.
I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light.
For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.