Here we go Loop-de-Loo!

Lately I have been absolutely enamored by how beautiful brightly colored flowers are. Hence, when opportunities have presented themselves I have taken pictures. In the slideshow posted below some of the pictures are of desert wildflowers that we stopped to take pictures of. The orchids and some of the more tropical flowers are from the Botannical Building at Balboa Park in San Diego (we went to California with some of my family for their Spring Break). My family was so patient to let me walk around like a camera happy fool, which to clarify - I was.

I've been trying to figure out what exactly it is that draws me to their beauty:

For some of the flowers it is the fact that they are growing out of rock, all by themselves and it reminds me of the parable of the sower, in Matthew, in which we are always reminded of the importance of good ground and nurturing. The resiliance of the desert flowers, and their astounding beauty has impressed me this spring.

Some I feel are so brilliant that they could not be reproduced, like the bill of a Tucan. They can be photographed and admired but any further atttempt would only end up looking cartoonish.

I love the Lord and I love how I remember Him and can feel His love when I am admiring the beauty that he has created. This is probably the greatest reason; when I can see all of the works and how uniquely beautiful they all are I have a hard time separating the beauty from the Lord - contemplating on one causes me to contemplate on the other. And for this ...

I am grateful.

Here is a poem that I remembered as I wrote. I've always enjoyed it.

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed--and gazed--but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.