Not every day will be perfect.
In fact most days won't be perfect.
By Florida standards, the weather this morning was miserable, gray, misty and blustery. The temperature was seventy degrees--and by now I know you're groaning, poor me, right--but it was a bitter and miserable seventy.
When I saw that the Wetlands was draped in fog this morning, I almost turned around and went home, but then God reminded me that I have never been to the Wetlands in the fog, and that if I am always looking for new ways of seeing things I've seen hundreds of times before, then I could not pass up this opportunity.
Most of the pictures I took this morning looked awful. My best and clearest picture was of a green heron who truly looked as miserable as I felt, shoulders hunched, feathers puffed. He squinted into the wind.
It wasn't until I was leaving the Wetlands that God showed me something new, a small bird on a street sign, too tiny to be a mockingbird, and with a black mask over its eyes. I took a dozen pictures but had to wait until I got home to identify it--a loggerhead shrike, a new one for me.
In fact most days won't be perfect.
By Florida standards, the weather this morning was miserable, gray, misty and blustery. The temperature was seventy degrees--and by now I know you're groaning, poor me, right--but it was a bitter and miserable seventy.
When I saw that the Wetlands was draped in fog this morning, I almost turned around and went home, but then God reminded me that I have never been to the Wetlands in the fog, and that if I am always looking for new ways of seeing things I've seen hundreds of times before, then I could not pass up this opportunity.
Most of the pictures I took this morning looked awful. My best and clearest picture was of a green heron who truly looked as miserable as I felt, shoulders hunched, feathers puffed. He squinted into the wind.
It wasn't until I was leaving the Wetlands that God showed me something new, a small bird on a street sign, too tiny to be a mockingbird, and with a black mask over its eyes. I took a dozen pictures but had to wait until I got home to identify it--a loggerhead shrike, a new one for me.
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