The quiet joy of a flower discovered in Siena, Italy.
winter! there you are,
dancing in, fancy free . . . wood
is wearing snow clothes
snow clothes by Angie Quantrell
Winter, Yakima Valley
Hoar frost in the Yakima Valley
only on my desk
are you allowed; come spring, no!
be gone garden snails
allowed by Angie Quantrell
tiny metal snail from Florence, Italy
Can you believe the beauty of Assisi, Italy? It is FULL of meandering lanes, ancient looking buildings, tiny niches, cats, flowers, tiny gardens, and wonders around every corner. Even though I was sick with what I thought a head cold, it was a joy to wander and discover all to be seen in the short time we had there.
My word for 2023 was JOY. I didn’t think about trying to find Bible verses about joy until part way through the year, and then it became a challenge. And it has been my JOY to share them here.
Today is the last day before I switch to a new word for 2024, but I hope what I thought about as I considered JOY will carry on in my life for the next many years.
Do you choose a word of the year? What was your word for 2023? Do you have a new one for 2024? I’m 99% sure of my word for the new year, but I think it will be much more challenging to stick with it when I choose Bible verses or passages for my Sunday post.
Happy New Year, friends!
three little drops hang
downside up, gazing balls show
sky view around me
downside up by Angie Quantrell
Yakima Valley
Photo by Angie Quantrell
Assisi, Italy
purple-y icing,
frosted blooms hanging on for
dear life-autumn’s end
autumn’s end by Angie Quantrell
Yakima Valley
seven years it took
from walnut to parent tree
life spark so divine
life spark by Angie Quantrell
photo and art by Angie Quantrell
Yakima Valley
Seven and a half years ago, my husband found this walnut (seen in sketch) wedged in a small flower bed at work. Whether accidentally dropped or carried and deposited by an animal, the walnut had that spark of life and sprouted right where it could never survive due to the rest of the surroundings. So he brought me home a baby tree. A BABY baby tree. I was holding a baby tree in my hand, one that would possibly outgrow me if it survived, grow to both amazing heights and depths, and produce hundreds if not thousands of new offspring.
This year, year seven, my husband found a walnut near a fruit tree as he raked leaves to put on the garden beds. Hmmm. And then he realized the connection between the nearby walnut tree and the walnut. He found a total of three, though we’ve been watching every year to see if “this” was the year of harvesting walnuts. We nearly missed it! There could have been more, but we have an active wildlife scene going on here in the pasture.
Each walnut is filled with potential, and the spark of life given from God, to grow, reproduce, and fulfill its purpose. We are the beneficiaries. Shade, leaves, wood, food, beauty.
Life spark.
Our baby walnut tree, which is indeed taller than me, is resting for the winter so it can grow more babies. Meanwhile, it adds a festive touch to the pasture as it wears Christmas lights.
Love, Laughter, and Life 