Saturday, 27 September 2014

Feathered friends, an autumn scene.

 I wish I had a picture to show you,
 The oddest and most peculiar thing,
 have you ever witnessed a bird migration convergence ?
 Well, one just took place in my back yard.
 What kind of bird is it that has descended upon my grassy hills and lofty boughs, there name I know  not. How shall I convey the feeling I shall have to try and paint you a paragraph.

The chirping of hundreds of little voices is what made me notice, a sort of full and crowded call that was amplified on the frothy air that is still warm like summer but has a note of something nippy about it. The sound was of a sort lurid, and caught my attention almost immediately. 
In wonder did I stand staring upon the scene of at least a hundred ebony birds dotting the earth. 
Amongst patches of sheer luminescence filtering through the great pine boughs abutting the property,
splattering sun baked and dying grasses, there color changes from black of night to brilliance of hues purple and deep cyan, pigments that conjure images of exotic places and strange things, there tones of peacock perfection made me look and want to look again. 
they fluttered about from ground to tree, almost as if my some slight of hand did there plumes glitter from brilliance to black, there chatter incessant, there interaction jittery and simply fluttery. 
I longed to capture the scene, but alas all I have are words, and a strange memory. 
among the autumn hues they flew in one great body to where I shall never know.  But for one small moment they sat upon my earth pecking the greens resting there flighted wings. 


Ah,  I do so love autumn, if for the furry and feathered friends it bears on its colorful folds to my door. I wonder dear reader, have you met with any sort of fauna our co inhabiters of this earth, that has made you sigh in dreamy praise at all the Lord hads created. I'd love to look with wide eyes along with you, drop me a comment and let me know. Until then I'll most certainly be lost in art and words.
Rachel Hope


photo from pinterest



Monday, 22 September 2014

Autumns Glory

Perhaps its in the coffee that I drink much too much,
perhaps I have an excuse because I'm supposed to be "creative"
Maybe I have a romantic sort of mindset.
Whatever it is, somehow I'm in my proper place when autumn rolls in.
Clearly I haven't yet discovered what it is about these days, why does my heart draw a peaceful breath at every newly fallen leaf, why do I feel still feel as though I were surrounded by a million flowers whose heady scent filled me with there intoxicant nectar. Somehow no matter how many autumns I see, I am humbled by the beauty.
Do we see the mirror in autumn of our own lives, aren't we all on some journey leading to the slowing down of things, wether we are in a season or whether we see the symbolism that all men walk toward eternity and some day will trade these human bodies for the realms of which we have only dreamt.
Autumn is a mystery in that its strength and beauty somehow combines with the other more darkened mood, in the same way oil and vinegar mix yet never blend together. We see the journey strong, majestic even, breathtakingly beautiful,  signaling the beginning of an end.
A sad thought, yet somehow it doesn't seem out of place in the melancholy days of this season.
how many times will we question our own humanity in the rain fall, or see in the misty clouded lands the scope of life. autumn is a philosophic teacher, a stoic sort that makes me inspect all of life with a inquisitive eye.
A lighthearted nature mingling with a more pensive aspect embodied on the world around me; harmoniously. This too keeps me in wonder.
Today She's stepped across the threshold, in a bath of sunlight glow, and we the onlookers have drawn a breath at the mystery, at the beauty.  We look to see her face, benevolent ? or wild with tempestuous moods ?
Only time will tell.
Oh, lets not forget to be drawn on in wonder at the loveliness our Father has blessed us with.
At the colors and the velvety wild winds, at the face of our nightly companion grown larger, and the sky so still and clear every star becomes seen. Lets be caught up in the rains and clouded atmosphere, lets look to see our faces in the puffs of our breath that find form in this special chilly air.
And lets be happy we live in a world where autumns exist.


 pictures via




Wednesday, 17 September 2014

The only way to ensure a perfect day

I'm watching early morning sunbeams flit through lace curtains, 
this perfect morning glow and the delicate frill hit my gaze straight in front of me. 
A reaffirmation of my thoughts, The Father is so good. Sometimes it takes little beauties or simple pleasures to remind us just how good. 
This morning, my BIBLE open to precious passages of promise, Hillsong music playing softly in my ears, my spirit feels full.
Coffee in hand to quell morning chill that has been seeping its way into the house all night.
The best way to start a day, is full of the Father, feeding on His faithfulness, nothing will keep you all day like the bread of heaven. Have you tried it ? I highly recommend at least a chapter of His words of life, they rejuvenate you like no other. 

> A lesson I have learned as of late, mornings spent in communion with my Father I never regret, and I can promise, you wont either. Sure it would be easier to stay abed, or get a massive jump start on the day, but I never feel quite right, when I skip this time like something is missing. 
Jesus said it like this, all who are thirsty come to the water and be filled, its the filling I miss, and the day never seems to go well, I'm fighting for time at every turn, no decision goes well. 
I wont lie, life's hard to grip at most times, it crashes over itself with a fury that takes captives, never once counting the casualties taken at its hand. is life mean ? uncaring?  I'm not sure, I seem to feel its just life. The way to get through, not just trudging, through the darkness, and sadness, and questions, through the miscellaneous usualness of life, and the screaming desires for more. It all falls to naught in the light of His glory and grace. His countenance falls upon me in these times smiling, why should I shun that kind of love, the love that says no matter what or who I am, I am the apple of His eye.
We have a wonderful Father who knows just what your going to need that day, if you'll face something hard, or need wisdom, He's so faithful that he'll give us in advance if we listen to Him the Word that will encourage inspire or hold us up under pressure. This is how He works and moves in our life. We give Him the opportunity to speak to us in huge ways when we set our eyes on His Word. That times never waisted. 
I'm grateful for early morning mistiness, for piercing sunlight and green still on the trees,
but even more I'm grateful for the training that comes between the pages of an ancient and living word. start with a verse, a chapter what ever He leads. But do I implore you follow, you'll be so happy you did. 


photos via 

Friday, 4 July 2014

Innocent Wonder

How do you describe the loss of something that you have always had ?
Something that's not a person or even a thing.
Is it Grief ?
Is the loss of something that can't be held, something that isn't tangible truly a loss, or are there things in the world that can't be explained, things that have more beauty and more value than fine gold.

I have seen the loss of a certain heart condition, a loss of the innocent wonder of the world.
Cynical attitudes are hazardous to wonder, but when you begin on that road there are no poison roadsigns that warn of the destructive way you are on. Its something that only experience may teach.
We all begin clean, I'll use that word because its so pictures of what Innocent means. I don't mean clean of sins or even bad deeds, I mean in our psyche we are clean. There are no doubts to crowd the lovely, no ugly insecurities to chain our winged hearts down.
We are shinny vessels of pure hope, faith and wonder, our eyes see the world with as UN tainted a look as we can imagine.
Children easily believe, while its hard for the adult to be as free with there trust, due to hurts and other things that I haven't time to boggle myself writing now.
I have had my fair share of snarky cynicism, and snide outlooks of a variety of things. And I have noticed a great loss when I travel that path. The world seems less magical, there is less sparkle to the stars, and things become dull, boring and dry. In effect, my heart suffers it becomes as stone.
 A grave danger it is indeed. For when my hearts hard, how may I run to my Father who has promised to guide and protect me ?
Our father created each of us with a certain amount of wonder, my dears, lets be wary of clogging our eyes with the dust of life, with the little hurts sent your way, and the judgements we all are guilty of proclaiming.
 Let our hearts be innocent once more, less prone to be hard, but all mushy and soft as we can be,
Lets throw aside our adulthood, and be children in our hearts once more.