Consider the ravens: they neither sow
nor reap, they have neither storehouse
nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of 
how much more value are you than
the birds! -- (Luke 12:24 ESV)

In early spring 2013, a pair of ravens flew into town and built a nest near the top of the water tower across from my balcony. 

Before long, there were three little fledglings learning how to fly, and the many shots I took of them in the weeks that followed became the inspiration for my first children's picture book, THE WATER TOWER RAVENS.

Every spring, for the next five years, I looked forward to seeing the new brood, but that fifth year I missed them because I was in the hospital. When I came home, an unexpected sight greeted me--a strange looking structure behind the water tower, which I was told was a temporary cell tower.

The fledglings, now grown, were out and about, and a crew of men were prepping the water tower for renovations and a long overdue paint job. I watched them dismantle antennas and move them over to their temporary quarters. The nest was gone.

The ravens didn't seem as bothered by the missing nest as I was. Sometimes they circled high in the sky watching the goings on. Other times, when no one was around, they found new perches to sit on, nooks and crannies to explore.  

The following spring when it was time to roost, I wondered where the ravens would go now that they no longer had a nest. 

No problem! Undaunted by the disappearance of their old home, they built a new one in a corner of the temporary tower. Not only was it larger and more sheltered, but when the fledglings started flying, the secluded area beneath it was a far safer landing place than the road below the water tower where they risked getting hit by passing cars.  

What a good reminder to trust God and be grateful for the things we do have instead of focusing on the negatives. If our gaze is fixed on closed doors, we may miss the ones about to open.



This pretty little 4th of July arrangement to the left was planted by one of the tenants in my complex. The other pictures were taken along the trail that runs through town.

I did not have my camera with me so I used my cell phone, and these shots really don't do the hibiscus flowers justice--or accurately depict their size. They were by far the largest ones I've ever seen. Quite an amazing sight.



This post was written for Five Minute Friday.
Word prompt--SMILE
Five minutes to write about it

It's been a while since I participated in the Five Minute Friday challenge, and I was about to skip this week's prompt as well, but then this post on Facebook caught my eye and made me smile, and I decided to share it here because even though they're not my words, aren't smiles what we all need more of these days?


Just be careful because people are going crazy from being in lock down! Actually I've just been talking about this with the microwave and toaster while drinking coffee and we all agreed that things are getting bad. I didn't mention anything to the washing machine as she puts a different spin on everything. Certainly not to the fridge as he is acting cold and distant. In the end the iron straightened me out as she said everything will be fine, no situation is too pressing. The vacuum was very unsympathetic... told me to just suck it up, but the fan was more optimistic and hoped it would all soon blow over! The toilet looked a bit flushed when I asked its opinion and didn’t say anything but the door knob told me to get a grip. 😬  The front door said I was unhinged, and so the curtains told me to ........yes, you guessed it 😝 .....pull myself together.
Copied and pasted  👍
I hope it made you smile. 😁😜



One of the brightest spots these days has been the birth of my new little great-grandson. So far we've only met by Zoom, but he's already won over my heart. I can't wait for the COVID-19 restrictions to be lifted so I can get to hold him.

Meanwhile, I'm grateful for technology, and that my granddaughter keeps us well updated with frequent photos so we don't miss out on any precious moments such as this.