E-Letter 180
My granddaughter stands at the top of a wooden play structure, surveys the work of her hands, and grins. We’ve spent 15 minutes coloring the wooden floor and beams with sidewalk chalk, and now this budding artist is ready for a new adventure so she stretches out her arms, and pleads,“Up, up!” “Go down the slide, Ingrid,” I coax her, but she stubbornly refuses to consider my perfectly reasonable suggestion. “Up, up!” she insists, and I try a new tactic. “Ingrid, let’s see if you can climb down the ladder.” But this toddler has a mind of her own and will not be dissuaded. I step...
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Do different species of birds speak to one another? How do the finches and wrens and sparrows who frequent the feeders in my backyard know when it is safe to share millet? What alarms fill the morning skies clearing the way for the huge grackles to dominate the suet feeders? Why do the female cardinals dangle daintily on my drooping tomato plants waiting for the opportune moment to position themselves on the four posts of the sunflower feeder? How, exactly, do the hummingbirds discern which shift they must take to sip the sugary sweetness solo from the red silo occupying center stage in my...
Read MoreE-Letter 178
Thirty-some years ago I stood in the blistering heat of a mechanic’s garage balancing an infant on one hip and keeping visual tabs on a curious three year old while listening to the young, grease-smeared auto expert deliver the “bad news” about my 1978 ice blue, un-airconditioned, jewel-in-the-night, four-door Chevy Caprice sedan that had accompanied our family on our exodus from the North. “Lady,” the young man said in a deep Southern drawl, “this car needs an ohl change.” I had no idea what an ohl was, nor what was involved in changing it. “An ohl change,” I said in a panicked...
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Just for today, I’m doing the Ted-Dunagan-I’m-fixin’-to thing. I’m fixin’ to open my eyes and be amazed. My morning did not begin well. I carelessly knocked over my blender and some invisible, lipsmacking monster lurking in the shadowy dust bunnies under my oven guzzled down my blueberry-banana-kefir breakfast drink. I emptied my dryer and began folding clothes that were covered with splotches of melted goo. Apparently my all natural, cherry-flavored, SPF 30 lip balm survived the cold water washing cycle only to disappear into the clothes twirled dry in the too-hot permanent press cycle....
Read MoreE-Letter 176
Sometimes we adults are privileged to be able to witness a child struggling with fissures of the heart that break open young eyes to a stream of discord shattering the worlds of others. Harmony – the exquisite fitting-together of musical notes that fills us with a sense of ‘rightness’ – was the theme of this week’s Salt Shakers (3rd-5th graders) mission trip. We took seriously the words of the Apostle Paul, “We look at the Son and see the God who cannot be seen. We look at this Son and see God’s original purpose in everything created…He was supreme in the beginning and – leading the...
Read MoreE-Letter 175
…with an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things. ÐWilliam Wordsworth, Tintern Abbey I’m trying to see the bright side of blight on 21 tomato plants that I have faithfully coddled, botanically speaking, by watering, composting, weeding, fertilizing, pruning, and staking. Standing sentinel over my garden this morning, steaming coffee cup in hand, it amazes me that I’ve spent so much energy perseverating over little brown speckles working their way up some plants like chicken pox. Dreaming and working for a bumper harvest, I’ve...
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