A Psalm of Praise

A candle is burning on the coffee table and beside me a small book lamp is illuminating the knitting in my hands. The windows in this room are curtain less and on a clear night there would be stars but tonight it is black. The clouds are hiding the face of the moon and I sit listening to the rain. My little girl is asleep and I am silent now too. There is an intimacy of life I have found in the velvet blackness, a quality of quietness in a long evening alone and I savour it. All day we watched ribbons of Canada Geese trailing across the sky and leaves falling from the maple tree in the yard near the edge of the forest. By late afternoon the tree is looking plucked and by my definition winter will be here when the last leaf falls. Dressed in the finery of fall - is the tree acknowledging its Maker or is God showing his care for us in giving brilliant colour in what would otherwise would be an incredibly depressive season? "Praise Him,...... fruit trees and forests...Praise Him,....all people...."Psalm 148:9,11
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