"Wildflowers Don't Care Where They Grow"

One of my favorite Dolly Parton songs is "Wildflowers don't care where they grow." As I travel the backroads of surrounding counties, I find that to be true here in North Carolina. They pop up on roadsides, in the middle of a pasture, along a fence row or anywhere imaginable. Mostly yellow, gold, purple, blue or white, they dot the countryside wherever thay can find a sunny spot to thrive. I think there is something special about wildflowers or flowering weeds, as the case my be. Randomly finding a spot of fertile soil with adequate sun and rain has no rhyme or reason and I think we are kind of like that. We are sprinkled out in the sea of life and we find our purpose and our roots where we land and we flourish with the skills that God has given us. Not always in a beautiful garden space that we had planned, but spread out across the countryside and prolific where we root the deepest. Wildflowers are beautiful, and remind us that we can be beautiful too, no matter where we land.

"Tis I That Would be Gone"

You've been gone a year and more, I scarce can take it in,

The very life and breath of me is gone, like yesterday. 

For your heart endwelled in mine, as though we were one,

That you be gone and I remain was not for me to say.

For if I chose which one to part and leave the o'her behind

'Tis I that would be gone, and you would write the rhyme.

A sweeter heart ne'er roamed than yours, of this I'm very sure

A better choice to stay was you, and the parting should've been mine.

But not for us to choose our paths and dictate what will be

We are the clay in the potters hands and must just wait to see

Whether our vessel be pure and fine, or flawed and easily broken,

What the Master has designed, will be revealed  to thee.

For life is brief, and though we would extend it for more time,

It's not our choice to make, but ours to take, and live it as we find,

For if I chose which one to part and leave the o'her behind

'Tis I that would be gone, and you would write the rhyme.

In Ghirardelli park in San Francisco Bay

Thoughts on your Birthday

 

There once was a maiden named Chess,

Whose singing would absolute bless,

She'd sing to the stars and bring Heaven 'round,

What a blessing to hear such sweet sound.

She'd play all those keys, both black and white,

Till they filled all the room with delight,

You might say, not one key excluded,

Our heartstrings, of course were included.

"Great is Thy Faithfulness" rings in my ear

Galen joining, would draw angels near,

It is, what it is, I heard someone say,

And it was, what it was, just like yesterday.

A sweet lady

Another old guy

Sir Galen

Written by David Warbritton for Chessene on the occasion of her birthday 2021.

September Flutter-bys

Flutter-bys of September

Waited all summer and no critters on the butterfly bushes. Patience grasshopper, plant it and they will come, in the good Lord's own time. These are from the last three days, which is the first week of September. Sorry there are so many, but there are another one hundred that I didn't post.

My favorites are # 1,4,8,14,17,23 and 29.

Share your favorites in the comments. Hope you enjoy.

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