This will be the last post of the year

Temperatures dropped again so the turtles went back into hibernation, and the herons and carp left for warmer places for the cold months (carp don't go to different ponds; they dive deep then drop movement/metabolism). That's probably why I was so glad to see Peter the Kawasemi Friday--most of my park friends were gone for the winter.

When I went to the other side of the park the other day, I saw the greenhead mallards in the corner of the pond. Until last year, there had been a male-female pair, Junior and Maggie, who had become very good friends. But they didn't come this year.

I doubted any of these birds would ever trust me the way Junior and Maggie did. But maybe we could have some kind of friendship, I thought, and worked hard on the initial sketch, telling them I'd probably show them a finished drawing next week.

A SPECIAL LITTLE TREAT

In the past, whenever the Kawasemi's come, I make it a point to sketch its basic outline real fast, because I know it never stays very long.

This afternoon, tho', I saw the unmistakable blue bird on the branch and began sketching quickly, looking up from time to time to see if it was still there...but it stayed...and stayed...and stayed. For the first time since my coming to the park, I left to go home before Peter did! I guess you could say it was a visual surprise, and I went home in a pretty good mood. Thank You so much, Father.

BELLS--A FEW DAYS LATE

Here are some stanzas to a lesser-known Christmas carol, "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day":

1. I heard the bells on Christmas day / Their old familiar carols play / And mild and sweet their words repeat / Of peace on earth, good will to men

2. And in despair I bowed my head / "There is no peace on earth," I said / For hate is strong and mocks the song / Of peace on earth, good will to men

3  But pealed the bells more loud and deep, God is not dead, nor doth He sleep  / The wrong shall fail, the right prevail / With peace on earth, good will to men

4. Then ringing, singing on its way / The world revolved from night to day / A voice, a chime, a chant sublime / Of peace on earth, good will to men

     

      Make no mistake about it; man will not become gradually more noble to bring about an ideal world. The clarion declaration of the bells is of the reality that our God will take back this broken world and show us on THAT ETERNAL DAY all He meant it to be.

      Come quickly, Lord Jesus!

The second sketch posted today is of my son participating in our handbell choir special music when we were in Koriyama--so this is from a photo taken 15 years ago. Three neighborhood brothers came that day, and my daughter is also playing in the handbell chorus too, but Keima was the only one drawn.

WILL JUSTIN ENVY SHEPHERDS？

"Then you will think about guys like us, right?", Justin the bat seemed to ask. I didn't have an answer.

The popular Christmas story teaches that the God of Heaven was willing to stoop to the lowest rungs of humanity, came to the shepherds. The majority of humans then turn up noses at bats, spiders, snakes, insects, and slugs.

I wonder what kind of relationship the Son of man would've had with these creatures?

THAT WAS MY DAD!

"Did you know a 'Roy Oshiro'?"

"That was my Dad!"

Several weeks ago, after worship service, during our online fellowship, I found out one of my more elderly friends actually knew my father when he first went out to Okinawa. Her father was on the board of the mission under which Daddy sailed in 1955!

My online friend was Gwen Penner. Her father, Lee Fosmark, was one of the Fosmark brothers who helped establish the Evangelical Free Churches of Canada, and he pastored in Coaldale and was on the board of the Canadian Japanese Mission (with director Margaret Ridgeway mentioned earlier). "Roy Oshiro" had been one of their first missionaries. They'd often wondered what had happened to him. Well, now she's met one of the daughters God gave him!

WAIT; LET ME GET A PIC!

When I visited Okinawa last year, my MK "brother" Brian was there with his wife, and I posted a handful of sketches this past Feb. of time spent with them. One of them was of a restaurant dinner his sister Sharon treated all the MK's to.

Well, their younger sister Brenda couldn't come to Okinawa earlier in the year, but she and Sharon came to Iwatsuki in Sept., and we spent a few wonderful hours together at an eatery near the train station.

I took pictures and e-mailed my sisters about it right away. This is a sketch made from the last photo taken before they went up the eki steps to go back home.

But I Wanted to Draw the Tree!

Several months ago, people walking through the park would've wondered about the artist earnestly sketching the tree branch, unaware that she was trying to draw the insect perched on the other side. But today? There was NO insect, no bird, no flower, no nothing...that artist really was a little funny!

Well, to tell you the truth, there was a gnarled tree with foliage growing out of some openings near the bottom....there was nothing stopped on its limbs; but something about its line and texture held me hostage, found me whipping out my sketching things and putting down on paper what I saw in front of me. When I got home, I told Kinya about the drawing I'd done that day, telling him probably anybody who saw me wondered why I would want to draw a silly tree (there were mallards and egrets in the pond!)

MALLARD TRAIL

I know I just posted photos of turtles, so I should be posting drawings for awhile before showing photographs, but I found some old photos I couldn't resist, especially after my recent visits to the park and seeing most other animals are disappearing now, leaving the mottled duck--what I used to call the spot-billed mallard. Here's something I found of the ducklings when they were still swimming with their mother, altho' they grow up really fast, and you can't tell them apart from the adult ducks anymore.

Behind Mama Mallard: 2 ducklings? No, 3!

No, at least 4

1,2,3,4,5

See? There are 6 of us!

DANDELIONS FOR MIDORI

Does anybody remember the story "Flowers for Algernon"? Well, these Dandelions are for Midori. Oh. Sorry Midori. She's not a white mouse, not even an animal. But a good friend who likes dandelions, so I thought I'd send these to her. She wasn't the one that died, but her mom and dad passed away rather suddenly and unexpectedly last month.

Two years ago, I happened to make this hedgehog drawing for someone who had one for a pet, and I found out Midori liked dandelions. She told me she really liked the picture and then suggested adding floating dandelion seeds for atmosphere. Expensive, exotic, prize-winning flowers were not what she was interested in, Midori said, but simple flowers like dandelions. They seemed so common yet were quietly, surely, sweetly sharing life all over the place. Midori battled depression pretty regularly. But sometimes she said some really good things that made you think.

My drawing of the flower? I realize I goofed something royal when drawing the leaf; I should've drawn it attached to the stem at the ground growing UP. I wonder if that's another reason Midori likes the dandelion; because when you're down, you want to look up--well, sometimes, that's all you can do. Anyway, would you pray for my friend Midori who lost both her parents within a month's time?

SEEING TURTLES

Splat! I remember one time when making pancakes in Koriyama--I'd put in some apple the way my husband and son liked but then forgot to put butter on the pan so that when I turned it, the heavier-than-usual-batter could do no less than ruffle, form a little slope, seem to shiver a little (was it horrified at what the cook was doing to it?) I managed to save it (to eat myself), but some of the inside batter came out unevenly done, and in the end I had a turtle-looking confection. I don't think I could've made it again if I'd tried. I haven't seen a pancake like it since.

But when I went to the park yesterday afternoon, I saw on the opposite side of the pond--I mentioned the root branch where turtles basked for my Oct. 16 & 24 posts--shapes that looked like turtle shells. But that couldn't be. They'd gone into hibernation, and I'd seen very few turtles in November, none anymore in December. I thought about my July 24 post, in which I mentioned the turtle Rockette who came out of hibernation on a WARM DECEMBER DAY several years ago--could that have happened again? But it wasn't just one turtle; it looked like 2 or 3. I rushed over to the spot to take a closer look.

But as soon as they saw me, the fellas dove back into the water. Funny tho', that still made me happy, because that told me they were living, moving TURTLES, not leaves or rocks that had settled in that corner of the pond to play tricks on my eyes. Besides, when I looked up back across the pond, I saw half a dozen other turtles basking on the other side...yes, near the place I had just left to come here!

A WHILE

"Hey Junie, you need a picture? It's been a while." Peter seemed to ask as he came to Step Creek. I hadn't posted a nature sketch in almost a week--to him, too long.

"Okay then; if you'll hold still long enough, I'll draw YOU," I said, reaching for my things as I did. After I finished the drawing, I checked, and he was right: the last time the park made an appearance in my blog, it was Sunday, almost a week ago! It had felt like just yesterday...

How long, I wonder, do I let it go before tending to time with my Father?

SNOWBALL!

I wasn't going to show anybody this picture. I mean, his head looks like an egg! I've told you I've hoped doing drawings might help relationship with family members--but they probably wish I'd hurry up and get better with my art.

This picture is drawn from the winter Grampa and Grandma were still alive and living nextdoor. Keima "built his igloo" by piling snow against their front yard wall. Here he is getting ready to hurl a snow missile in defense of his ice castle.

Even with chattering teeth and frozen fingertips, back in the days when my children were small, as in this "egghead picture--winter brought snowball fights, tobogganing, and skiing. I used to hear talk of loving the winter season best for the bracing cold.

With "Global Warming" and with all the modern conveniences assuring comfortable surrounding, the harsh cold can be left outside, and is it just me, or does it seem like people have gotten softer, weaker? I used to wonder what it meant that God would want us to be hot OR cold, and I think I might be wrong, but I have an idea.

Huck, Shakey & Ray at Duck Pond

It sometimes pays to be small. The larger birds fell through the thin ice that formed on the surface of the pond. But the small Hakusekirei owned the "entire  rink" then and played to their hearts' content.

Perhaps we shouldn't bewail some of our seeming shortcomings. In God's wisdom, they may be reason for "entire rinks" of joy being ours.

I wonder if the Wagtail--that's the English name for this bird--doesn't look around and wonder why the other birds don't join him; it seems they just don't know what they're missing out on.

"COMMERCIAL"？

"The others are gone;" the mallards saw; "it's safe to go back," they hopped up onto the landing to resume posing for me!

The greenhead mallards had let me get surprisingly close to them to draw their picture, but as soon as other humans had neared the bridge, they'd jumped back into the water and swam away. "Well, it had been a fun experience while it lasted;" I thought then. "No one could really expect birds in the wild to...huh? They were back! I shook my head in disbelief but reached for my sketching equipment.

"Just pretend that was a little commercial," the mallards waddled back into the places they had been in before.

"Commercial?" No. Mallards don't watch TV; they couldn't have said that! I just imagined it, right?

SATISFIED？

When I got to Deeper Pond, Peter the Kawasemi had been diving into the water after fish, waiting for me. I think he just wanted to know if his picture was finished.

"Sorry it took so long Peter, but here it is," I said, showing him the drawing. I hope he wasn't too disappointed. In it, he's drawn smaller than in the last few sketches I've made of him, because I drew more park featuring mallards too.

Hm; I wonder if my satisfaction in life has to do with how important I'm made to feel or if others are highlighted and I get less credit?

to be continued tomorrow

I had to go to the park while it was still warm. After all, when I went to the park last week, Peter the Kawasemi had come out to pose for me. I thought living things would be gone by December and had resigned myself to drawing the garden lamp.

But onto a branch near the lamp, a bright blue bird had come--Peter the Kawasemi! And a few minutes later, several mallards splashed down into the pond.

"Us living things--gone? Ha!" They must've been honking and singing as I hurriedly (and happily) scrawled away a rough outline to do a real drawing later. But it got dark much too fast, so there was time to do only a very general sketch...this.

I ENDED UP DRAWING THIS

"Do you know words of a simple children's Christmas song to teach at the orphanage?" I was asked. A friend gives her time helping out at a Christian orphanage, and for Christmas, she wanted to teach a short carol translated into Japanese. "Silent Night, for example." I knew the lyrics by heart, so got it ready right away to e-mail to her. 

But in case the kiddies asked her the meaning of the vocabulary in the third line, "mabune" referring to the manger in which Baby Jesus was sleeping, well, I'd just draw a picture. I was just going to make it a simple cartoon explanation, but it went onto watercolor brush markers then color pencil and fineliner.

I guess God can surprise us with the way He outgives us.

IT DREW ME, THAT'S ALL

I guess some would say this is another boring drawing, since it doesn't have any person or even animal in it...this time not even a single significant central object of interest.

Kinya'd accompanied me to the park this afternoon and watched me sketch the beginning of a drawing including birds, but when I came home intending to finish what I started, I found myself drawing the color-filled Corner Cove instead.

I wonder if God is ever drawn to work on some of us, no matter how insignificant we seem.

MIME MIME

I should've named him "Cowboy" or "Rowdy". One of my carp friends was like the little boy who came home all cuts and bruises; who couldn't stay out of mischief; who you didn't dare put in good clothes because you knew he was going to get it torn and dirty before the end of the day. Mime Mime liked to play out deep; I could always spot his dorsal fin cutting the water when coming home.

On June 28, I posted a black & white Mime Mime, but a friend e-mailed that she thought I ought to save the picture and color it in.

Yesterday, it was a relatively warm day, so about half a dozen carp came out of hibernation and were swimming in the creek. Yes--Mime Mime was one of them. Here he is, in living color this time.

I wonder how many "Winters of Discontent" we'll have to see before we step into eternal light also.

JUST A FEW MINUTES AGO

There was a lurch, then I could tell something had changed in the way we had been moving. Seconds later:

"Ladies and gentlemen, there is no cause for alarm, but please fasten your seatbelts." The nose of the plane seemed to be going up, up... "Maybe this is the day I'll go up higher than I've ever been before," I thought.

BUT WHERE WAS I?! 

It was to my relief I realized I was in Saitama, Japan; sitting at my desk. I had fallen asleep in front of the computer--okay, laugh at me. But I was not sitting in any plane in trouble!

Then a few moments later, I smiled at what I remembered in that nightmare. When the possibility of facing the Grim Reaper had come, the words that had come out of my lips were "maybe I'll go up higher".

I've always seen myself as a timid one, and a big chicken when it comes to flying. Maybe God was just reassuring me that when the time comes--and not before--HE will supply dying grace.

(The pictures shown here, incidentally, were drawn last year and in 2021.)

Both have been drawn here before, but...

Let me tell you the whole story behind yesterday's picture. A car came along and squashed that grasshopper. I felt like someone had run over my heart then...but Kinya was with me at the time, and I felt I couldn't cry. So I'd turned to go on to the park. I saw a duller-colored grasshopper on the pavement right about then, probably the mate, who had witnessed the whole thing.

I wanted to draw a good picture of the grasshopper so was careful to be accurate in drawing it then had one of the crows--if you look at the picture carefully--crying for it. I so wanted the female to see the finished drawing. But she was nowhere in sight.

So I told the mallard and carp to tell the grasshopper about the picture and stood at Corner Cove this afternoon sketching them, wondering if she might show up. But the grasshopper didn't come.

Maybe I'll see her sometime later on this week and can show her the picture.

On the way to the Park

"Hey June, remember me?" a large grasshopper seemed to call for my attention. When I wanted to take a picture of it before, my camera had run out of battery. I snapped plenty of photos this time, and made a drawing of my six-footed friend at the very front.

The background? Last year, I'd felt drawn to do a quick sketch of the entrance of one of the neighborhood homes, with a bicycle parked in front of the door, steps, and postbox--I could use that. And to add interest to the picture, I'd add two of my black feathered guardians, the crows.

WHEN I WAS A CHILD

"God is great, and God is good / And we thank him for our food. /By his hand we are fed, / Give us Lord, our daily bread. Amen."

As a little girl, I remember not being able to keep up with my big sister and the other big kids at the Christian kindergarten saying the prayer before meals. I ended up chanting: "God-great-God-good-thank-food-hand-fed-Lord-bread-Amen."

When older, at church, we talked about the holiness of God and determined to stay faithful to the truth, and I really thought I'd progressed, moved on significantly from my toddler ways. It occurred to me we were just saying, "God is great and God is good", just expressing it "smarter" now!

The sentiment "Give us Lord"? That hadn't changed too much either, I realized. Altho' young minds may think "ice cream and chocolate", after a few years, needs and wants change. I'd been praying for school marks, people relationships, and a little later, ministry endeavors.

When we were real little, my older sister did a good job keeping me and my younger sister from being scared of some of the termites we found in the woodwork of the old house. She showed us how to pluck off their wings and play with them like moving little toys or pets.

Some memories of the past, I'd like to leave in the past. How I played with termites is one of them. What I want to be different now is that I hope I can accept gifts from my Heavenly Father and not just devour them but respond automatically in the gratitude and adoration He so desires.

Stopping by before Bedding Down for the Winter

The Kawasemi hadn't gone into hibernation yet and gleamed from his perch. God had kept it warm today so he could come and sing, "CONGRATULATIONS!"

I'd forgotten until I saw Peter. It took 3 years, but I finally finished memorizing the book of Hebrews in the morning. Katie Sisco, a retired missionary wife, just did Hebrews, so I decided to try. I've done shorter books before, but I don't think I would've dared such a long book until I heard someone else actually had.

Thank You Lord for encouragements like Katie before doing something, then for delightful surprises like Peter after it.

SKETCHING BY NOVEMBER TREE

"He likes to draw pictures too;" my daughter told me about my grandson Yusei. "just give him paper, crayons, and leave him at the table. He's happy." she said. I could tell he was in his own little world when he got started drawing. I sat down next to him and started sketching him, and he didn't even notice. See him concentrating, the way he sticks out his tongue?

Oh--why's the Christmas tree up already? Since the biggest Japanese holiday is New Year's, many figure the tree-and-Santa Holiday is the western counterpart, a winter festivity. So wouldn't November just be one of the early months of the season?

Pray Yusei would learn of Him Who died on a TREE meant to be remembered every month of the year.

UNINTERESTED

 We go to Emi's today. Here is a photo story from a past park visit:

1 Look! Kids on a field trip!

2 If they look at me funny, I'll take off

3 They weren't even interested in me

4 Poor tykes probably have their

5 Interests regimented

Decided to STRIKE Up a Good Time

When my sister was doing missionary work here in Saitama, we often invited her up to our home in Koriyama for the winter holidays. We had hours of roaring fun with the games she always brought along when she came. Probably when my children think "Dutch Blitz", "Peek", "UNO", "Skip-Bo", "Pigmania", "Yahtzee", "PIT" (Spoons version), "Go Fish", "Mille Bournes", or anything to do with that kind of fun-in-the-living-room, it will be my sister Joyce they remember. (There are actually many more games than the ones mentioned, but I knew readers would be bored. Besides, to younger folk, "games" usually means moving online symbols and interaction with technology, not laughter with people.)

Then there was that year the activity wasn't at home. Joyce offered to take us bowling.

Several problems. I had had an accident, and my back was too weak to handle a heavy ball. Kinya's back too, was acting up. To make matters worse, my daughter Emi couldn't go. So in the end, it was agreed my son Keima, in junior high by then, and Joyce would do the bowling while Kinya and I cheered. We decided to have a good time anyway.

Here's a picture from that time. You'll have to imagine his expression--full of fun--he's facing the other way; he still wouldn't let me take a picture from the front!

BULL'S EYE? BIRD'S EYE!

The white heron, a Master Fisherman, alto' at the same time a graceful, beautiful sight for the eyes, a bird I call "The ballerina of the sky," was at Far End again. I guess he could sense even the faintest twitch transmitted thru' the murky water. It should be difficult to detect the movement of fish in hibernation.

But the Great Blue Heron accompanied the egret yesterday. He seemed to want to show that his species too could claim skill in fishing. I was pleased to see the GBH and decided to take its photograph. Just when I plunged the camera's shutter, the heron plunged its head into the water after a fish!

If I had waited for that moment, no doubt, I would've missed this shot.

And we humans think we're so smart

I expected the Kawasemi--he is so pretty--to be gone for winter hibernation--the turtle too. Imagine my surprise when both showed up at Deeper Pond this afternoon. I wasn't surprised to see the greenhead mallards. I figured this might be my last chance this year to sketch the kawasemi & turtle so did. Here is the initial sketch.

Since I'd just finished looking through C.S. Lewis's narnia books, "King Peter" rang in my mind when I saw the Kawasemi Peter looking like he was surveying his kingdom, Deeper Pond.

Aren't you glad the Kawasemi didn't go around wishing he had a robe of purple like earthen kings instead of being a stupid blue rock? Maybe he'd tell us he wasn't smart enough to realize flying sapphires were supposed to want to be something else,

MEASURE OF ALL THINGS

 (This was written Jan. 2022.)

I was sitting on a park bench one afternoon watching an inchworm making his way along. You could see it was a good day for this little guy. The way he held his head up high, his rhythm was steady: plop, pull up his body, stretch and plop, pull up his body, stretch and plop, pull up his body, His steps were sure, he wore a healthy translucent shine, almost beaming confidence...but wait. I saw a large crack in the wood ahead. What was he going to do when he found there was nothing to plop down onto?

Inchy paused for only half a second--oh; I'd named him "Inchy" by this time, since he was an inchworm--anyway, he paused for only a moment at that crack then lunged. Silly me, I found a part  of me wondering "suicide?!" But then, I saw what Inchy had done. He threw the forward part of his body across the crack to the other side, and when his front legs caught the landing, he pulled the rest of himself up to it.  After all, that's what inchworms do! It was almost as if Inchy turned his head around, looked back at me, and winked, "I can do anything! If I can't do it, it can't be done period."

I'll hand it to Inchy to do all he does. But I've heard he won't believe you if you tell him you can run, and his reasoning is simple. He'll tell you that's impossible. He can't move that fast, so he can't believe you can either. So There. That's that.

Does that sound ridiculous to you?

That's what humans do with virgin birth. God says I will have a Savior born to the human race through virgin birth. And many humans say: Impossible! You must have a father and mother, like the rest of us. I can't be born any other way, so neither can you.

That's what humans do with the resurrection. God says I will die and come back to life. And humans say: Impossible! When we die, we cannot come back to life, so you cannot either!

That's what humans do with creation, with miracles, with prophecy. God says I will do certain things, and humans say: Impossible! "If it's impossible for us, it's impossible period.

TIMID LIKE THE BIRDS

This afternoon, I headed to yesterday's spot, asking God to please send people here today. My Father not only had the greenhead mallards come back to Far End and stay until June finished her drawing; but He called on the egret to come too, so altho' she hadn't been in yesterday's sketch, I put her in the center of the background today.

Yesterday's art-lover apologized for taking up my time, but she doesn't realize nothing could make me happier. I've asked God to anoint every encounter at the park, and it seems every talk turns to things of God. I need to pray--I'm so timid I'm scared to talk to people I know, much less strangers at the park.

Which is what I find myself needing to do. Please pray this timid artist be a winsome follower of Christ.

BRAVE LITTLE BUG

I couldn't not draw that picture.

At the park this afternoon, I ended up telling an art-lover about the time a small, red-winged bug with pompoms had actually allowed me to lower its leg pointed to the sky and, instead of running away as I expected it to do when a human being touched it, simply raised its leg again (story on May 20 post). I'd show her the drawing I'd made of the photo I took then! But I had lost track of which sketchbook I put it in. So I drew it again. Here it is.

SHE CAME TO POSE JUST FOR ME

Here's yesterday's egret colored and with details added.

I think it's gotta be Alabaster or another egret friend who knew I'd want to sketch them especially now, because it seemed as soon as she saw I had what I needed, she flew home. She couldn't have come to fish, because with the onset of winter, most fish dive down deep and move around much less so wouldn't be good fishing.