Une tache de couleur

"A spot of color."

If I keep my mind open, my eyes sometimes find a spot of color, of beauty, of extravagant and unnecessary revelation of the wonders of Nature. 

And of Nature's God. 

This morning, checking the fax machine (yes, there are still both vendors and customers who use the '80s medium) in the front office, when -- Lo! -- across the street, a spot of dawn sun spotlights a meadowlark on the barbed wire at the margin of the farmland across the street.  The new wheat is inches tall, and new-grass green in the morning light, when -- Ah! -- this picture has audio!  The meadowlark repeats, repeats, repeats his song: "I am a Western Meadowlark."

"The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the meadowlark proclaims His handiwork."

(So to speak.  And with apologies to King David and Psalm 19.)

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