The Championship Day

...His tender compassions never fail. They are new every morning…

Lamentations 3:22-23

Most Mornings

I sit on my porch and look out over the neighboring golf course to enjoy the show. Today, a hawk is perched high on the tiptop of a dead branch, while a black bird is traipsing across the 11th hole. Sadly, the unseasonable lack of rain has left the tops of the palm trees a dull shade of brown. But I take heart. Florida’s summer rain is bound to come, and when it does all browns will turn to glorious shades of green.

Blue-Sky, Puffy-Cloud Day

The world is waking up on this blue-sky, puffy-cloud day with a tribe of frogs still partying after an all-night fest—yak-yakking to the dawn in their native tongue, croakese. Into this symphony comes the persistent hammering of builders down the street as they assemble a grand hotel that will provide a home away from home for its well-heeled guests. And right in front of me a red-headed woodpecker drills for food in the branches of the dead tree that hangs over the creek. He jerks in starts and stops, then looks down. AHA! He dives in. Breakfast!

Ringing In the New

As if to punctuate this scene, a burst of wind jostles the giant chimes that hang overhead. What a perfect way to ring in this new day—a championship one at that!

Timber Creek

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