Name That Tune

Last night we went to sleep to the sound of spring peepers, those tiny but very vocal frogs whose early season chorus can quickly rise to the level of a din. This morning we woke up to a cacophany of sounds. There was the far-too-early crowing of a rooster, then the gobbling of wild turkeys, the abrasive calls of red-winged blackbirds, the braying of a donkey...the list could go on.

We were back visiting with our friends whose farm is on a bend of the Ontario Mississippi River which flows into the Ottawa. Spring has sprung with amazing speed in that area, It was shirt-sleeve weather even though there is plenty of snow in the bush and chunks of ice move lazily past the farm on the swollen river.We saw a turkey tom strutting around in a field like the one in the photograph.

Less than two months ago we were there for a few gorgeous winter days during which we skiied through the pastures and skated on the river. This weekend the -25 degree temperatures were traded for +25 and we ate on their deck last evening as though is was summer -- without the blackflies.

You may be tired of hearing me say that there is such evidence of God's grace in the natural world but it is true. We watched the sheep being sheared over the weekend and even these rather naked creatures bear testimony to a Good Shepherd who has created us all.