Lois Reynolds Mead

Art and a pink monkeyflower in a native plant garden…

Leave a comment


The early morning walk of Easter morning just after a night of rain. The sky and reflections cleaned and glistening. A song from long ago leaping from a recess of my mind and whispering across my lips as I walked. Of course, the version in my head is sung by Cat Stevens…did I skip?  Well, just a little…

Morning Has Brokenby Eleanor Farjeon

Morning has broken, like the first morning

Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word

Sweet the rain’s new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God’s recreation of the new day


IMG_9375IMG_9385IMG_9398IMG_9379IMG_9386IMG_9387IMG_9392And the release of a rehabbed red-tailed hawk…back to its home after recovery…