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.

Some things don't merit discussion

Just a little more! The egret had come! I knew all the herons would be flying to some warmer area, and I wouldn't be seeing them now for several months. I wanted to get in a good initial sketch to do my final drawing, because I wanted to do a good one...but it was getting dark, and it wasn't a good idea to stay out myself.

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself," I'd heard several months ago. It had been getting dark then too. I looked up to see a person who claimed to be an atheist I had friendly discussions with at the park pavilion. "After the sun goes down, there are hoodlums around up to no good."

Today's sketch...I wanted to put in a few more lines...but I knew if he caught me out late again, there would be no friendly discussion; he might scold me then walk me all the way home...so I decided to call it a day.

THREE CHEERS FOR AIKO

I thought it was Maggie and got all happy for Junior, took a lot of pictures for reference then made a sketch to finish at home. There, I got my photos up on the computer screen where I could see the details so that if I had any questions while I was drawing,...but wait...

I realized then that it was not Maggie, but another bird: half mallard and half mottled duck. Because crossbreeds are called "ainoko" in Japanese, I named this one Aiko.

There was a reason I mistook Aiko for Maggie. She had taken on Maggie's job of livening up the others and getting them to move. When I came to the pond today and saw a female mallard cheerleader, I of course thought it was Maggie.

I felt 3 things when I realized my mistake: I felt a little sad that Junior did not have his partner back; but there was an inner sigh--it's not so bad: Aiko and some other greenheads (a few others came with her) would be with Junior, so after the mottled ducks went home at night, Junior wouldn't be by himself.

But most of all, I wanted to give a medal to Aiko for stepping up do her job so well I'd been thoroughly fooled.

Needed a different color; needed to stand out

My last picture--can you tell that thing in the center is a bird? It looks more like a toaster with legs, since I tried to draw the duck from the back, and it had its head bent down; I'm not good at drawing the mottled duck yet anyway, even straight from the side with its head up! 

Or would people who saw the picture remember the fact I didn't think to make the leaves and the butterfly different colors so you could tell them apart?

Actually, I had tried drawing the grass & leaves with my watercolor brush markers, fude brush pen, and color pencils on another page. I saw the scribbles and  liked what I had drawn, decided to work on it a little more then keep it. But I should've thought to do the butterfly in a different color!

A DUCK BY ANOTHER NAME

What I'd been calling a spot-billed mallard is really a mottled duck, I found out today.

I remember seeing a mother at the park pointing to the greenhead in the pond and explaining to her children how you could distinguish the brightly colored male from the plain brown female, pointing to the mottled duck. Inwardly, I said, "She's teaching them something WRONG!" But if I'd have said, "that's not a greenhead female; that's a spot-billed mallard", I WOULD'VE BEEN WRONG TOO!

Isn't that like what we humans do, pointing fingers at others' errors? They've got it all wrong, we smile inwardly.

Here is today's sketch of a foraging...mottled duck. Today, a dragonfly came--probably the last to make its appearance before the onset of cold--as well as a butterfly, so I decided to put them into the picture. It seems a carp nearby wanted to be included too, so I managed to squeeze her in on the side. After all, the place is named "Carp Walk". But what's in a name, right? A rose is a rose; a duck is a duck...

Duck Pond End, Ballpoint Pen Start

This has happened a few times before. I forgot to bring my brush pen. Any sketching would have to be done by ballpoint! Well, I'd be coloring and filling in details later on anyway, I said to myself, and just started. Here's what I ended up with.

The Creator of our universe didn't need references, brush/ballpoint pen, just the words "let there be --".

GOT WORDY...

It got too dark...in more ways than one.

After my dentist appointment this afternoon, I thought I'd hop over to the park again, but I looked up at the sky, then over at Kinya. It would be too dark by the time I got there to do any sketching today, wouldn't it?  Maybe tomorrow.

I'd sketched crows in the trees at Corner Cove the other day--I'd seen them countless times before and wanted to draw them but never had the chance. Besides, altho' I think the birds' dark black bodies against the green and brown of the tree is pretty, whenever I try to draw crows, it tends to get too dark; I still don't know how to draw highlights and shadows of black things. Even with my initial sketch, I left most of the crows' bodies completely unshaded in--in other words, white!

Sure enough, when I colored the black and white drawing, the resulting picture was way too dark. I thought of how pretty those crows had looked when I'd seen them, and it almost made me want to cry.

How does God do it? He makes things like shimmering black opals and pearls, glossy black-furred animals, rich velvet-winged butterflies, dragonflies, birds. 

We humans seem to do the exact opposite. We take things that are supposed to be clear, luscious for the eyes and somehow dim it down, "uglify it", and call it "art", many justifying it by saying "art is free self-expression." BOSH.

There's always that student in art class who's jealous of the top artist and knows he can't do anything that good, so he scrawls something ugly and decides to declare it "self-expression". I realize some dark composition is legitimate--and perhaps skillful--presentation of a concept. I'm not negating that. But I AM saying we should NEVER dare to put the creator's--man's--expression on the same or on a level comparative to the Creator's--God's--untouched beauty, nor ever cease to marvel in it.