I am not certain what the yellow flowers are exactly, but they are common in fields and even into woodlands. They attract all kinds of insects and looking closely on can see more than just butterflies on them.
Some of the trees, too, produce exquisite flowes. These almost orchid flowers stand out in the wooded areas. Unfortunately we do not have many native trees that produce beautiful flowers, so I am always attracted to the wild flowering trees I come across.I started my Sunday School blog with audio uploads this past week, so
it take up the bulk (and more) of my writing time, so now is the time
to employ the email tool here.
I'll see how well it works when I land and have Internet access again.
Sent from my iPhone
I am not entirely certain what it was about Easter Sunday this year that made it so unusually special as they go, but from the waking up until now almost bedtime, it has been one of those days touched by special moments that are memorable. The most memorable, of course is the special Easter service at church.
Every year we have a different routine on Easter Sunday with egg and scavenger hunts for the younger ones and a longer time to visit and socialize for the adults. Sprinkled in there is the breakfast provided by the deacons of the church and the normal church preparations of the day.
This year’s worship service also included the baptism of two adults with very moving testimonies read to the gathered congregation. One of the two gentlemen only has one leg, so I got the opportunity to be in the water to help support him as he stood to be baptized and help the preacher get him in and out of the water. Other than my own baptism over thirty years ago, I had never participated so closely in one. The whole experience gave me goosebumps.
And it was not just because the water was freezing.
Baptism in a Baptist church has always been a particularly moving experience even as a congregant observing the practice, but being a part of it took the whole thing to an entirely new level. I am going to have to think on it for a few days to understand the full scope of how much it meant to me, but I do know that I came out of the water feeling even more strongly about the power of baptism as not only a symbol of faith, but as a transformative even in a person’s life.
Our practice is for the choir to sing “Take Me To the Water” as the pastor gets situated in the baptistry to introduce the importance of baptism an all that it signifies. After observing the water first hand, that hymn will carry even more force the next time I hear it.
Spring in Austin really is hard to beat. Today was one of the perfect examples with a comfortably cool morning with clear bright skies. The day morphed into a warm clear day, perfect for being outside. Coupled with all of this, the rain over the winter has all the local streams flowing nicely, so the trails along them are filled with the sounds of the stream rushing over rock.
I went with my friend, C., to walk the Greenbelt which has several popular gathering places at different rapids. With well marked trails and many people, it made for a relaxing afternoon sightseeing as we traversed the trails.
After our adventures along the trail ended, we stopped at the grocery store to pick up ingredients to make incredibly decadent burgers back at my place and continue to enjoy a perfect day outside. We made guacamole burgers with with sauteed bacon, mushroom, onion, and garlic. The burgers themselves were two patties with bleu cheese in between.
We tried to balance it out somewhat with grilled romaine lettuce topped with citrus salt and balsamic vinegar, but the decadence of cheese and bacon grease pretty much negated those valiant efforts.
Following dinner, we sat around the chiminea as we had small fire to take away the falling chill of the evening.
If only April could stay in Austin all year long.
Saturday afternoon as I was hurrying off to the next event of my day I noticed an overturned wheelchair in a lane across the intersection where I was stopped. Initially, my thought was that the wheelchair would make it hard for the vehicles in that lane to pass until enough cars has brushed and crushed it into a speed-bump of unrecognizable metal. I was glad I was not in that lane.
On a second glance, I noticed cloth fluttering in the breeze under the wheelchair. Then I noticed that the cloth fluttering under the overturned wheelchair was not fluttering in the wind, but contained the body of the wheelchair’s occupant. He was there squirming and moving as ineffectually as a days-old kitten separated from the rest of the litter.
The cars passing through the intersection created a strobe-light effect on the immobilized man’s struggle. They only allowed me to see that bit of motion visible in the space between bumpers as the cars sped by, oblivious to the desperate attempts of the man in the street.
Fairly quickly people stopped a the intersection in the lanes across the median off which the man had tumbled jumped out of their cars, picked up the man, and wheeled him across the street. For those few moments, from first noticing the man floundering on the ground until seeing him safely in the parking lot, I actually considered the possibility that the man would be left there in the street. At first glance that seemed his destiny.
Driving away, I could not get the image out of my head. The thought of being so helpless in such a treacherous situation haunted me for the rest of the weekend. It is easy to drive past the neighborhood panhandlers, wondering whether the apparent disabilities such as the limp, the lame arm, or use of the wheelchair are genuine and put the wondering out of my mind the instant that person is out of sight.
This time it was not so easy. The man’s feeble attempts at motion continue to replay themselves in my mind. His most determined efforts at first appeared no greater than cloth blowing in the breeze, mere twitching. The minimal pathetic actions all combined did not move the man even an inch. In his wheelchair, he somehow made his way into the intersection almost every day, but out of that contraption, he is utterly unable to function.
Even though I now know this one panhandler’s case is sincere, I still don’t give him money. I choose to donate to local charities that serve our indigent community and I feel even more justified in doing so. If this guy is helpless with an overturned wheelchair, he is equally helpless against the thugs and thieves who hang out in the homeless camp in the grove of trees just off the street. I’ll let the local agencies provide the services on my dime rather than doubt the direction that dime takes when it gets into homeless hands.
Now I wonder about the backstory to the overturned wheelchair.
So while R was out of town last weekend, I took the opportunity to switch things around and put the entire new bedroom together. He was quite pleased the first time he walked in to find it. He agreed that it fit the bedroom better and was a better height than the lower frame.
When I have a little more time to sit at the computer and play, I'll be posting more pictures of the different animals at Animal Kingdom.
