Sunday In The Garden

I went to church this morning. The altar of my choosing (my choice as I believe religion to be a singularly personal determination) was the leafy edifice of my backyard gardens. My blessings there are almost, now, too numerous to count. I was ministered to by the energy and elegance of hummingbirds...

I was inspired by the naturally perfect choir of mocking birds and cardinals, singing ethereal anthems of sheer joy, dressed in their liturgical cassocks of gray, white, brown and crimson.

I was comforted by the prayers of butterflies, baptizing themselves in the sweet nectar of our phlox, porterweed, lantana and pentas.

And I gave an offering of corn, peanuts, and black seed -- eagerly collected by the phalanx of squirrels living in oaks, magnolias an pines of our neighborhood.

My Sunday morning peace is found in the lessons learned in our suburban Florida backyard where we have built (are building, actually) a small sanctuary - a tiny place of shelter for ourselves and a few of the other creatures who have risen from the earth according to nature's grand design. Hallelujah and Amen.