1353. Timeless thoughts of a winter’s stare; eyes gazing over a landscape bare. ~Michael A. Barron

Gray, endless shades of
Gray, winter’s somber suit of
Gray, the season’s shroud

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Beige, broad blankets of
Beige, chilling frosts turn green to
Beige, on what we trod

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Color, drear shades of
Color, muted, faint hues of
Color, in stark realm

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Winter, the woe of
Winter, shall soon be gone for
Winter, bows to spring

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As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I(God) desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. ~Isaiah 55:10-11  ✝

**All 4 haikus written by Natalie; most images from Pinterest; collages by Natalie; a few of the images in the last collage are ones I’ve taken in past winters

1313. In the woods we return to reason and faith. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson  

How beautifully the leaves grow old!
How full of light and color are their last days!
~John Burroughs

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It is not so much for its beauty
that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts,
as for that subtle something, that quality of air,
that emanation from old trees that so wonderfully
changes and renews a weary spirit.
~Robert Louis Stevenson

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The forest is not merely an expression or representation of sacredness, nor a place to invoke the sacred; the forest is sacredness itself.  Nature is not merely created by God, nature is God. Whoever moves within the forest can partake directly of sacredness, experience sacredness with his entire body, breath sacredness and contain it within himself, drink the sacred water as a living communion, bury his feet in sacredness, open his eyes and witness the burning beauty of sacredness. ~Richard Nelson

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The forests are the flags of nature.
They appeal to all and awaken
inspiring universal feelings.
Enter the forest and the boundaries
of nations are forgotten. It may be
that some time an immortal pine
will be the flag of a united peaceful world.
~Enos A. Mills

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When you enter a grove peopled with ancient trees, higher than the ordinary, and shutting out the sky with their thickly inter-twined branches, do not the stately shadows of the wood, the stillness of the place, and the awful gloom of this doomed cavern then strike you with the presence of a deity?  ~Seneca

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Take me to a quiet place
with earth under our backs,
cradled in a soft forest glade.
There we’ll point out and
acknowledge things we see
and things we do not.
In solitude we’ll take in the
wisdom offered in each other
and in the hum of the forest.
~Phoebe Wahl

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Underfoot, leaves of  wondrous autumn colors
crunch beneath my feet as I tread on and upon
earth’s hallowed ground to capture a piece of the
Lord’s reddened glory laid upon a wooden altar!
~Natalie Scarberry

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When Jesus saw their faith, he said, “Friend, your sins are forgiven.” ~Luke 5:20  ✝

**Notice the lady bug on the leaf in the first photo. I love it when I get an unexpected bonus on a photo. All photos were taken this last week by me.

1261. The color blue is everlastingly appointed by the Deity to be a source of delight. ~John Ruskin

blue, the color of sea and sky
blue, a constant color in our lives
blue, the collective color of the spirit
blue, the only color which maintains
its own character in all of its tones
blue, the color of peace and calm

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indigo, the deeper blue of the
mystical borderland of wisdom
indigo, the color that turns blue
inward to increase personal
thought or profound insights
or instant understandings
white blue, the color of
communication with others
blue, blue green, and green
sacred colors for some peoples

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blue, dynamic and dramatic
blue, engaging and exhilarating
blue, that in some places is
a symbol of mourning or
sacrifice or warding off evil
blue, that in other places is
thought to correspond with
the 4 seasons, the 5 primary
elements, the directions,
blue, the color often associated
with feeling sad or unhappy
blue, a soothing element
in gardens everywhere

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And we even experience
the color blue in all our senses:
Blue is the look of a cool spring day.
Blue smells like a freshly bloomed flower.
Blue feels like a cool breeze on a hot day.
Blue tastes like tasty, sweet blueberries.
Blue sounds like gentle, falling rain.
Blue is the wonder in our minds.

…the seventy elders of Israel went up and saw the God of Israel. Under his feet was something like a pavement made of lapis lazuli, as bright blue as the sky. ~Excerpt from Exodus 24:9-10  ✝

**Blue, as in these wondrous, tie-dye morning glories in my yard

1233. Of all God’s gifts to the sighted man, color is the holiest, the most divine… ~John Ruskin

There are not more than five primary colors,
yet in combination they produce
more hues than can ever been seen.
~Paul Klee

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We live, breath, and move on holy ground, and life’s experiences come to us by means of our God-given senses. Nature and its colors don’t just surround us like the walls of a house or a building; they move into our space and through our senses touching us in very discernible and meaningful ways.

The laws of color are unutterably beautiful
because they are not accidental.
~Vincent Van Gogh

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Terry T. Williams said that “All life is holy and daily prayers are delivered on the lips of (blue) breaking waves, the whispering of (green) grasses, and the shimmering of (autumn) leaves. I believe these prayers of which he spoke are real and meant to bring us into intimacy with the Lord, the singular and ancient author of the excellences we’ve been given like these beautiful rain lilies.

All the other colors are just colors,
but purple seems to have a soul?
When you look at it,
it’s looking back at you.
~Uniek Swain

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Nothing has life apart from God, and if we want to look for and find Him, we must start where He dwells and seek what He values. Colors, like these of the passionflower, as well as angelic hosts, miracles, and God’s grace, are the unmistakably visible and tangible elements emitted by Creation’s many sacred voices.

…for God’s gifts and His call are irrevocable. ~Romans 11:29  ✝

**All images taken by me in my yard but not all at the same time

1226. The marvels of daily life are exciting… ~Excerpt from Robert Doisneau

For me, life offers so many
complexly surprising moments
that two beautiful objects
may be equally beautiful or dramatic for
different reasons and at different times.
~Edited and adapted quote
by Diane Ackerman

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You think it will do what? You think it will look like what? You think it will be what color? You think it will be pretty? And stay that way? SURPRISE!!! Ordinarily I love surprises, and when it comes to a rose that is one color as a bud and another after it opens up, I’m good with that kind of surprise. In fact I’m fascinated all by roses which do that or those which are one color on one side of their petals and a completely different color on the other side. Or even ones that are edged in a different color than the rest of the rose are always a lovely and welcome surprise. But when a gorgeous rose opens, one that might ordinarily be an exciting marvel for several days, and then fries by mid-afternoon because the heat rises to 105, the surprise becomes more of a melancholy shocker which I suppose in some sense is a surprise. Actually it is more of a being taken by surprise kind of thing and certainly not one that is good or welcomed. And as for what’s in this collage below being an exciting marvel, the top part certainly is, but the bottom deep-fried version of it only excited my ire. And as for the marveling in regards to it, I was dumbfounded at how long I’ve managed to endure living in Texas during August without going stark raving mad. Oh well, I reckon we’ve all got to learn to take the good with the bad, and enjoy moments no matter how fleeting they may be.

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Come, let’s drink deeply of love till morning; let’s enjoy ourselves with love! ~Proverbs 7:18  ✝

**All images taken by me in my yard

1223. Color is joy. One does not think joy. One is carried by it. ~Ernst Hass

Joy is the sweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud–
We in ourselves rejoice!
And thence flows all that charms our ear or sight,
All melodies, the echoes of that voice
All colors a suffusion from that light.
~Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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From my hate-the-heat perspective the garden being adorned with crown jewels like these in the collage is one of the few saving graces of a Texas summer. If these flowers had voices instead of brilliant colors, I think that even as buds whose colors had not yet been revealed they would start the day off with soft, murmuring melodies. Then as the day’s flames licked up higher and higher and they burst into bloom, their songs would play on but in loud and bold arias so that the bees, the butterflies, and other pollinators would harken to their lusty, changeling voices. And all the while as the harmonies played on, the insect benefactors would suckle on the tasty fare despite the sizzling sultriness. And I, I would remain the envious onlooker because it is only they and not I who are small enough to crawl down into the gloriously-filled caverns of sweet nectars. Then at day’s end in weariness from performing their noisy choruses and from enduring the onslaught of mugginess their songs would give way to those of the white and silver flowery voices that mingle in with the enlarging and marvelous music of the night. As for me, though saddened by their silence and passing, I would have agree with Barbara Kingsolver who said that “in the places that call me out, I know I’ll recover my wordless childhood trust in the largeness of life and its willingness to take me in” again, another day. Another writer once said that in the isolation and silence of winter one can savor belonging to him or herself. And who knows, perhaps summer allows one to do the same but in a different way, especially when that individual is falling short of being thankful for God’s gifts by fussing about the way they are wrapped.

You(God) turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy… ~Psalm 30:11  ✝

**All images taken by me in my yard; not all were taken on the same days

1176. Is not this lily pure? What fuller can procure a white so perfect, spotless clear as in this flower doth appear? ~Francis Quarles

And the stately lilies, fair in silvery light,
like saintly vestals, pale in prayer.
Their pure breath sanctifies the air, and
their luscious fragrance wanders
round and round the garden fair.
~Edited poem
by Julia C.R. Dorr

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Is White a Color?
White-pristine, unblemished-
They say it is not a color.
Yet I see white mists and clouds
Lingering on blue mountains.

White-no shades, no off white,
no cream-just white, pure as this lily
Or as snow on shimmering peaks.
‘Tis this, that’s my favorite sight.

The paper on which I write is white,
White that is clean and holy and pure.
They say that light too is white
Because it combines all the colors.

White is the mother of all colors, the
Churning of yellow, blue, green and so on.
It is the matriarch then of all colors,
The fountain of all extent colors.
~Excerpted, edited, and adapted verses
from a poem by John Matthew

[ She ] My beloved is mine and I am his; he browses among the lilies. ~Song of Songs 2:16  ✝