The east side of the Carrizo plain, in the Temblor Range,
about 50 miles due west of Bakersfield, California.
Photo taken by Barbara Mathews, May 14, 2005.
Nothing man can do could ever equal the glory of God's creations.
The Day GOD SPILLED THE PAINT!
Spring means many things to folks all around the world. Usually, it is associated with the post winter blooming of beautiful flowers and wildflowers. I have written several poems about Spring. It has a magical quality about it to help us look past some rough weather, flooding, and insect swarms. It signals the rebirth of the Earth's beauty after the drabness of winter. If you are one of those who helped me get started in this maddness we call blogging, then you may have already read some of the things I have posted lately. A select few have gone back and read some older posts (and I thank you), so you may see a poem, essay, or story repeated occasionally with a new title and hopefully a new lead-in. I have several short stories that would require posting in a series of no more than three parts and I would like to know if you would read them like that. There is one in an older post if you would like to see an example. It was entitled "The Season" and was posted March 21, 2008 through March 23, 2008. Also, please let me know if you like soapbox essays, poetry, nostalgia, or humor better. I am going to try and get my ADD under control enough to do some advance planning for these posts to take the pressure off my early mornings. I will be reading your comments and I will hopefully respond with stuff you like to read.
COULD AUGHT BUT GOD MAKE SPRING?
Could aught but God make spring?
Purples, greens, whites, reds.
Tuned songbirds’ voices sing.
Could aught but God make spring?
New life to winter’s dying bring,
as unto us though we were dead?
Could aught but God make spring?
Purples, greens, whites, reds.
It was beautiful and simple, as truly great swindles are. - O. Henry
