"I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world, Heavenly Father created for me."
Looking at the news and then contrasting it to these images...this is better
Pictures taken in the last few weeks: I love spring!
I am sometimes still so amazed we have this beautiful view.
Even though there is lots of gardening...
I love every time the flowers pop up--it's a surprise to us every time because we have no clue what they'll be!
This is my favorite view from our front yard. I love seeing that steeple with the mountains.
Butterfly wings--there are so many butterflies up here
1. 360 view of what I see on my morning walk/runs
2. Another view
3. Another angle
4. Fully turned...
"Written in Early Spring" by William Wordsworth (one of my favorite poets)
I heard a thousand blended notes
While in a grove I sat reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What Man has made of Man.
Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure -
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
The budding twigs spread out their fan
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.
If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature's holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What Man has made of Man?
While in a grove I sat reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What Man has made of Man.
Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure -
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
The budding twigs spread out their fan
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.
If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature's holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What Man has made of Man?
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