Under The Weeping Willow

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I’m sitting under the Weeping Willow tree and enjoying the pleasant coolness of the moment. A gentle breeze occasionally stirs the low-hanging leaves. It’s nice and quiet here. No cars around. No blaring radios nor televisions. No airplanes roaring overhead. Nobody knows I’m here under this tree but God and He will surely keep it a secret.

I often hear words from the ministers about heaven on earth but it’s obvious that we haven’t arrived there yet. Not even close. But from a personal viewpoint this spot where I’m sitting is a good example of how it could be. Total peace and contentment in the moment.

We could all have this kind of existence or something similar if we worked at it a bit. But each of us has to decide to make the transition. No one can do it for us.  Each of us can have our own version of heaven on earth without interfering with the vision of our brothers and sisters.

Sitting under this Weeping Willow I figure I’m doing my part in bringing about heaven on earth now. If you haven’t already, I hope you will start on your own version soon.

On The Edge Of Somewhere

We were driving west along a state highway in northern California. Just kind of staying alert enough to keep the car aimed in the right direction. The scenery was nice and green and hilly but nothing spectacular. We had driven the same road countless times.

All of a sudden my wife said, “Now that’s strange!”

I glanced over at her and saw that she was looking intently out the window at something.

“Hey,” she said. “Can you pull the car over and stop on the shoulder?”

I pulled over and asked, “What’s up?”

“The water in that creek. It’s flowing in the wrong direction. We’re going downhill but it’s going uphill”

Sure enough the creek, which should have been flowing in the same direction we were traveling, was now flowing in the opposite direction. We got out of the car for a closer look. There was a strangeness in the air. Total quiet prevailed. Even the energetic little creek was making no sound. No birds flying around and no traffic on the road. It was as if we were in or at least on the edge of a different world. I noticed the hair was standing up on the back of my neck. My wife broke out in goosebumps. We quickly decided it would be a good idea to return to the car and get the heck away from there. Within a very short distance we observed that the water was again flowing in the right direction and things seemed normal.

Were we at a place where there was a dimensional shift or maybe a parallel world overlap? I don’t really know. We’ve come across a number of strange places in the foothills and mountains of the west. Places where the air shimmered and there was the feeling of an unseen presence nearby. I’ve heard them called portals or doors to other realms. Some of them have felt positive and light filled while other ones have had a dark, alien feeling.

We’ve tried to keep a healthy distance from all of them although on occasion we’ve been a lot closer than was comfortable.

Weeds

I like weeds. They’re hardy and will grow just about anywhere. They don’t require tilling and feeding with some special fertilizer. Lots of them are good to eat and many have beautiful flowers.

I don’t know why weeds got such a bad rap. It it weren’t for them some places would be really barren, funky looking affairs. Consider how dreary those wonderful high mountain meadows would be without all those wildflowers (weeds) ablaze with their blooms.

During those dry summers when the lawn of St. Augustine grass looks bedraggled the crabgrass can be counted on to remain nice and green. And, of course, we can always depend on dandelions to proliferate and supply a good show of yellow flowers.

I like weeds. God created them so He certainly must think they are important. I’m not inclined to question God’s opinion?

So…all together now…let’s hear it for the weeds. “Yea weeds. Live long and prosper.”

The Dandelion Sower

The owner of the duplex hates dandelions. He considers them a blasted nuisance, spreading all over his precious lawn. He says they multiply worse than rabbits. He spends hour after hour digging them up. He tells his tenant next door he can’t figure out where they all come from.

The tenant loves dandelions. Everything about them is wonderful. They make great additions to a salad and hot dandelion tea can’t be beat. And then there are the beautiful yellow blooms. Ah, but the seeds. They are a special delight the way the breeze can scatter them about. What a wonderful thing.

As the afternoon winds down and dusk approaches the landlord finishes his dandelion digging and retires to his home for the night.

Hearing that door close the tenant opens his and steps outside. He eases off the porch and heads down the road to a large meadow not too far away. It’s one of his favorite places and it’s full of dandelions. After sitting amongst them for awhile he arises and begins his return walk to his home.

Upon arrival however, before going inside, he smiles and quietly walks all around the lawn gently sowing all those seeds he brought back with him.