Plant a tree,
a butterfly garden,
lilies that multiply and spread,
camellias that will be majestic long after you’re gone.
Improve the Earth for future generations.
Leave a legacy in nature.
Sunrise, the colors of the sky, clouds, sunbeams, egrets and herons at water’s edge, birds chirping, ocean sounds, thunder, rain on a tin roof, sunset, a starry night.
I sat in a meditation garden this morning, soaked in gratitude for a glorious autumn day under a sky that gave visual definition to paints and crayons named “sky blue.” Butterflies flitted from yellow flower to pink to blue, as if choreographed for a Disney movie. Birds sang with purpose. Angel Trumpets heralded the arrival of….Snow White? I expected her to appear at any moment.
Gratitude arises with intoxicating joy amidst the glories of nature, and I always stop in my tracks and give thanks. But do I always remember to give thanks on those days that bring more stress than joy? Do I stop in the midst of bad news or intense aggravation and give thanks for the blessings of the day? Or for simple abundance?
As I sat in the garden, a song from childhood sprang into mind, “Father, we thank Thee,” which caused me to reflect on lessons from Sunday school when I was four and five. This particular message was simple yet profound: Give thanks to the Provider. Be kind and loving.
It is an important message at any age.
Father, we thank Thee for the night,
And for the pleasant morning light.
For rest and food and loving care,
And all that makes the world so fair.
Help us to do the things we should,
To be to others kind and good,
In all we do, in work or play,
To grow more loving every day.
-Rebecca J. Weston
Sunlight sparkles on water amidst green spikes of marsh grass.
Roseate spoonbills blend into pink reflections of a morning sky.
Flashes of pure white egrets dot the marshscape.
A visual breakfast — feast of serenity, divinity — feeds the day.
“All shall be well, and all shall be well.”