Soggy Froggy Green

Smiley Frog

Photographer Christine Buske

   Lush velveteen green summer reluctantly relinquished it's reign to a late Autumn exploding with bedazzling reds, oranges and golds in the tree tops which shaded the still lush lawns. The green ground cover fought like a small child to stay awake long past bedtime. Finally, winter arrived, sending heavy frosts to blanket the ground. The Summer's green faded into a dormant sleep; only the evergreens  remained vigilant to provide shelter and shade for the shorter days ahead. The chilly rains continued to drench the sleeping earth. Relatively mild in temper this year, Winter saved it's climatic performance of sleet, ice and snow for the finale of it's time on the seasonal stage.  The curtain dropped, the scenes rearranged, then once again a new act began.
   Spring blustered in with torrential rains and raging winds, which upstaged the sun's performance, only giving him a token moment or two. The ground drank its fill until saturated and still more rain fell. Puddles and pools stood everywhere. Ducks swam in the yard. Lawns became swamps. Mud covered everything. Blooming flowers and budding trees cried with hunger for the sun's brilliance. At the director's command, Spring had to bring Old Sol center stage for a few solos. With his warmth, he charmed the blossoms open and the buds to burst forth. His serenade awakened the well watered grass. The scene ends as the standing water recedes.
   To the showers and storms were added fog, drizzle and mist into the next scene. The waters rose even higher than before. Lakes in fear of drying up from years of drought, now waved and splashed with greater depth; boats now danced across them once again. So, the storms would blow in, the torrents would fall, the clouds would linger and drop to kiss the ground.
    Worms multiplied by the thousands, ant hills sprang up all around to aerate the soil. And in the dark cover of night, the creature most benefited by the sogginess was the amphibian.
   Tromping through the sogginess in the predawn hour with Mila pulling me as she splashed about, I listened to the myriad of singing birds and the new addition to their chorus, the beat of the croking frogs. Mila began to sniff and snort in the puddled grass. She poked her nose at something, and drew back with a start. She pounced and poked, pounced and poked, until I reached down and discovered the object of her attention, a small frog. He was frozen  in place, so I was able to easily pick him up and hold him. Mila sniffed at him. I gave the back of his head a pet and spoke softly to him to allay his fears, then I set him down, and he tried to hop away. Mila gently played with him for a short time until he managed to lose her in the boggy lawn. I then tread carefully as there were many frogs about that morning. On the following walks in the wee hours we encountered more froggies in the froggy green grass. I enjoyed their croaking. And, as an added bonus for rising early, I enjoyed the rising sun casting its glow upon the gray mist which slowly dissipated to reveal still waters, heavy dew laden grass, glistening roses and a canopy of brilliant green leaves. I feel blessed with such a Soggy Froggy Green spring.

Lori Dawn Vidak
5-5-15

Evergreen

     Autumn has passed. The colorful array of leaves have fallen and turned brown, now trodden underfoot or sunk to the bottom of the lakes. The grasses have faded to brown. Yet, left is the evergreen trees and bushes so familiar to Christmas time. Such deep, rich shades of green are often decorated with nature's ornaments: the artful pine cone, the chandelier-like mistletoe, brilliant berries of red, sometimes blue, or the nuts of varied earthy shades and shapes. Before the memory of the green summer and colorful fall has faded, the holiday season brings the evergreens indoors and decorates the world with a rainbow of colors.
    Hanukkah and Christmas were filled with faith, family and fun.The end of 2014 has given me extra special memories to hold onto for the rest of my life. But, sadly, the holidays have passed. While many have taken down their Christmas trees and lights, mine are still up. I usually keep them up for a couple of extra weeks to hold onto a little of the magic as the routine of the new year, a busy schedule and the dead of winter take hold of me.
     Yet, in the midst of sometimes bitter cold, winter storms and boredom, I look to the evergreens. Thoughts of mountain pines--or perhaps palm trees along a golden beach--bring a respite from the mundane.

Lori Vidak 1-8-15

The Fading of the Green

     Early on a chilly Sunday morning in early November, I woke early and took Mila for a walk. The sun had already risen above the horizon to cast a golden glow upon the trees, highlighting the newly painted leaves of yellow and red, yet leaving contrasting shadows that make for more brilliant sparkles in the dew upon the grass. An ethereal mist veiled the middle pond on the back stretch of the park trails, and the water was still, reflecting the morning as perfectly as a mirror.
     The air was brisk, as was my pace; Mila pulling me along to eagerly greet new scents and chase after the foraging squirrels. The grass is still mostly green, after a couple of days of soaking rains. Yet, the fade to brown has begun. While there is a sadness in the passing of summer, there is such beauty in the arrival of autumn with its golden, flame red, and orange shades of leaves adorning the trees in a brilliant display of life before the long sleep of winter. The mists that shroud the fields, lakes and roads at sunrise add a sense of calm to the new day, encouraging a deep breath and a few moments of meditation before the frenetic activities of work or play crowd the mind with stress.
     Though cars and trucks were already motoring to some unknown destination, they only interrupted the pleasant melodies of the mockingbirds, robins, jays, ducks and a few geese that played in the background, leaving the walk relatively quiet.
     In mornings like these, I strongly feel the presence of the Lord and am awed by the wonder of His creation. This, for me, is a form of worship that can only be appreciated in the stillness of the dawn. My heart and soul are filled with love and peace. Inspiration follows. I now write to share the precious experience with those who could not see, hear, smell and feel it. I encourage the reader to seek out these moments for they are a priceless blessing.




    May the Lord richly bless you,


    Lori Vidak   11/10/14

Velveteen Green Summer of '14

Brilliant green grass as lush as velvet

Leafy trees as bushy as cotton candy

Waters blue and forest from sky and tree

Colorful bursts of red, pink and yellow buds.

Welcome, needed rains to quench the earth.

Brisk breezes to keep all things cool.

God's blessed gift of relief and awe

Was the North Texas Summer of 2014.

Green Pastures

   

 I am a sheep, defenseless and clueless.

I need a shepherd, a good shepherd to guide and protect me.

I do not always choose the best pastures, the right paths,

or the safest waters from which to drink.

Without Him I will follow other sheep even if they are walking a path that leads to death.

I tend to wander off, distracted by other places. 

My Good Shepherd uses his rod to discipline me that I will learn to stay with Him.

He uses his staff to rescue me when I have fallen into a pit or gotten in over my head.

When I am injured or sick he is my healer, anointing me with oil.

Though my enemy is near, the Shepherd stands guard to defend me while I eat, sleep or drink.

The Shepherd gives me purpose; He harvests my wool.

Because of my Shepherd I have a happy, long life and am content basking in His loving presence.

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me to lie down in green pastures;

he leads me beside the still water.

He restores my soul;

he leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Yes, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil;

for you are with me; your rod and your staff comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies:

you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; 

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Green pastures of lush grass, often decorated with bright flowers of yellow, red and blue are a place of bounty, play and rest. Few creatures can resist the urge to leap and play, then roll onto their backs to look up at bright blue sky. When sheep are scattered across the rolling hills or flat meadows, they appear like fluffy clouds hovering over the green, often mirrored by the fluffy clouds of white above.

When I think of green pastures, I remember my horse Angel and the hours she spent munching through them and the times I rode her across them. I think of green meadows filled with violets, daisies, and dandelions as my mom and dad flew paper kites with my brother Doug and me. I think of black and white dairy cows lumbering across the fields or huddled around a lone tree in the midst of a sea of green grass. I think of the smell of spring and summer, freshly mowed fields and lawns. Green pastures are simple contentment in the provision of the Almighty.

I love green pastures.

Lori Vidak 7-01-14

Why the Green Eyed Monster?

Why the Green Eyed Monster?

It twas Shakespeare first defamed the eyes so rare, 

and Disney who turned them against the princesses fare.

Portia: How all the other passions fleet to air,as doubtful thoughts, and rash-embraced despair, and shuddering fear, and green-eyed jealousy!

O love, be moderate; allay thy ecstasy, in measure rein thy joy; scant this excess.

I feel too much thy blessing: make it less, for fear I surfeit.

   Iago:  Oh, beware, my lord, of jealousy! It is the green-eyed monster

 which doth mock the meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger, but oh, what damned minutes tells he o'er who dotes, yet doubts--suspects, yet soundly loves!

Has jealousy raged so much the more from those with eyes of green?

Do not blue eyes cast a piercing gaze as well?

And do not deep brown eyes blacken with rage as mean?

Was it evil plot or chance, William and Walt, do tell,

To portray the color of spring into such a scene? 

Lori Vidak 6-20-14

     

Don't Mess with the Frog!

Today, I was scrolling through my Facebook posts and saw this: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=3649169309116&set=vb.1270958814&type=2&theater.

     "Hmm, what's this?" wondered the happy green frog.
     He watched as bugs, one after another, magically appeared and crawled across the smooth glass platter held by his owner's hand.
    "Wow, bugs on a shiny platter! My human really loves me!"
     His tongue ready, he aimed. Fire one! Fire two! Fire three!
     "What the heck? I know I didn't miss!"
     Fire again! Hit! Hit!
     "Hey! Wait a second. A game! I get you the high score and no bugs for me!"
     He caught on about the thumb and the game. When he saw the thumb move next, he thought, "Oh no you don't! I'm not falling for this again!"
     He jumped and clamped down on that thumb, trying to hold it for ransom.
    "Feed me! Now! And no tricks this time! You don't mess with the Frog!"

     I couldn't help myself. I had to make a post of this on Shades of Green.

Lori Vidak 6-15-14