At the break of dawn when the first light peeks over the flailing vines on the other side of the fence and pushes past the line of trees on the horizon, something impish happens in the tree in my back yard. Three, sometimes four and occasionally five small squirrels begin their morning dance up and down the willowy branches. They fly from wispy tree limb to wispy tree limb. They grab small bits of "tree stuff" shove it in their mouths and run again. They are life. They are life at its finest. Should a squirrel ever be locked in a cage?
Awake, my soul!...I will awake the dawn. I will give thanks to you, O Lord.
from Psalms 108
Peace.
Love, Linda
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