Merry Christmas to all the friends of Four Cedars Farms!
May the spirit of Christmas warm your hearts and bring you joyin the same way that you have filled us with joy this past year.
24 December 2008
23 December 2008
Officially Winter: Day Two...
Between the time we placed our outgoing mail in the box, flag up, and when we returned to retrieve our incoming mail, our mailbox had changed.
The dented and battered box? Gone. In it's place, a sturdy, (also) green replacement.
Don't you just love it when a County administrator takes your problem to heart and makes it his own? Wow.
The dented and battered box? Gone. In it's place, a sturdy, (also) green replacement.
Don't you just love it when a County administrator takes your problem to heart and makes it his own? Wow.
22 December 2008
21 December 2008
Looking west toward...
We are told to live in the moment. We are told we shouldn't cling to what's past or project ourselves into what has yet to materialize. We are encouraged to focus on our current reality, like it or not.
But some realities are too hard to bear, such as when it's cold inside and so much colder outside that we can't even step outside the ancient walls of the farmhouse. And with evidence mounting of the world's moral and ethical decline, it's simply too steep a climb to reach anything resembling hope. And so the great chill deepens.
But then memory serves us and we abandon the here and now to dip into the azure pool of nostalgia. Splash. If you are patient enough to pause for daylight's passing into night, you understand the ephemeral qualities of light at dusk. It is, I imagine, a glimpse into what awaits us in Heaven.
This is the Mediterranean Sea at sunset taken five years ago from a quiet patch of beach found north of Beirut, Lebanon. You see Heaven, don't you?
But some realities are too hard to bear, such as when it's cold inside and so much colder outside that we can't even step outside the ancient walls of the farmhouse. And with evidence mounting of the world's moral and ethical decline, it's simply too steep a climb to reach anything resembling hope. And so the great chill deepens.
But then memory serves us and we abandon the here and now to dip into the azure pool of nostalgia. Splash. If you are patient enough to pause for daylight's passing into night, you understand the ephemeral qualities of light at dusk. It is, I imagine, a glimpse into what awaits us in Heaven.
This is the Mediterranean Sea at sunset taken five years ago from a quiet patch of beach found north of Beirut, Lebanon. You see Heaven, don't you?
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