WWWOWWWWWWwwww...!!! yipes!

What did I see one early morning that reminded me of God's protection and prompted the "Scary Spill" repost? It was a crow at Lower Bridge admiring a swimming grasshopper.

Oh no, he told the crow; I can't swim. I misjudged & jumped into the pond.    

Sometimes Mr. Crow, the spring in my hind legs scares me.

Yup; we're to boast GOD's strength and protection. I know I usually do a great job of getting in hot water if I were left to my own devices! And am I grateful then to find lily pads of grace to help in time of need! He is always watching our foolhardy ways.

--------------------------------------------

PLEASE PRAY I don't jump too far on my own strength as I am prone to do, feeling my own burdens and finding my own ministries when we get down to Okinawa, forgetting to spend time with my precious Lord Himself and nurturing my own soul.

I do that.

FLYING BLACK CARP？ DUCKS？

I told you, didn't I, about the crows that called themselves "Black Carp" and stole the carp's food at feeding time? The animals there began calling them "Ducks" because these flying creatures were claiming food meant for swimmers (carp, turtles).

 

1 Oh look, FEEDING TIME!       2  What're you doing!

 

3 That's for Carp,        4 For "BLACK CARP???"

If God made me a crow (single, poor, female, minority, the only Christian in the family, what have you), I need to be satisfied being a crow, and not think I'm clever for being able to think of myself creatively, as a "black carp". If something were best for me, a pretty smart Creator God could manage to make it available for me, couldn't He?.

LOOKING ACROSS THE CREEK

"I was looking across the street, just like you're looking across the creek," I explained to the crow, looking at the other bird on the boulder on the other side.

I was telling the crows about the "birthday" when I was 10. I hadn't planned on it, but this is being posted on my 65th birthday. I wore my favorite blue shirt dress, and my sisters, my Mom and I were out for a walk on our hill...and oh look! Wasn't that Dr. Lam, one of my favorite people, waving to us?

My mother habitually stretched out her arms on both sides and bent down slightly at the waist to look both ways for traffic before starting across. My younger sister was on her left, and my older sister was on her right, but she hadn't been able to reach me, who had been a split second too fast and started to dart across without looking.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH! whump!

When my mother looked up, I stood, half frozen in the middle of the road. I had seen the speeding car at the last instant and jumped back. It had hit my dress as it whizzed by. I can still feel the contact it made, inches away from my skin. The car came to a stop by the side of the road, the person at the steering wheel, sure he had hit the little girl who dashed in front of the car.

"I'm so sorry she scared you like that!" My mother apologized profusely to the driver.

"Th-then she's okay?" He was too relieved to get angry. "J-just tell her to be more careful." He started the engine and was gone.

Dr. Lam, a missionary, called us together by the side of the road and thanked God for protecting me. He'd witnessed a near tragedy. My father, another missionary, did something else that evening. It wasn't my birthday, but he had bought a cake to celebrate God's saving Junie's life today--and I remember seeing Daddy cry.

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.

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

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.

EVEN CROWS KNOW THAT

This weekend hasn't afforded time to draw or color, so I'll just post the black/white sketch I started last week plus some of my photos, since my last post did mention how Elizabeth Elliot and I both enjoyed the hobby of photography. I'm sure if she'd been born in an era of computers and blogging, she'd have posted her photos too.

This one looks like turtles at the waters of Lower Bridge are kissing, but you can see the head of the turtle on the left is up closer; he was basking on land, while the turtle on the right is still swimming in the pond so farther away. It's just that the edges of their muzzles align vertically in the photo.

But I think this crow will let all in the park know the way things really are. I wonder how many park residents listen to his announcements from the telephone wire--he has enough antennas set up. What, those aren't antennas?

June...even crows know that.

ANOTHER TRY

It was finally a little cooler this morning, a temperature that told me it would be safe to chance a visit back to the park (it was down to 80.6 by 6 a.m.), so I snuck out for a quick walk. I told myself it would not be the former session of stand-under-the-blazing-sun-and-let-yourself-sketch, just a say-hello-to-the-critters-take-quick-photos-and-come-home before it got hot again. The forecast said high for today was 95 Farenheit.

Today I got to see my carp pal Panda, and Gamma the crow (this one was so named because he's so absolutely flat across the top of his head and to the tip of his hooked beak, his form can look like the upper case Greek letter when looking at him from the side!)

The crow drawing I did the other day didn't turn out so good, I wonder if Gamma's drawing today will put me in better...no, the crows don't get mad at me when I draw them poorly; I'm just wanting to draw them better 'cuz I want them to...I was going to say, to smile, but they don't smile, so...caw heartily? I don't know; you end the sentence. (Sorry; some of us are a little lacking upstairs  and need help finishing our own sentences.)

SILAS...

The other day, I decided to re-read George Eliot's Silas Marner, (it's relatively short). The main character has epilepsy too, like me.

In 2021, I sketched and named a crow Silas when I saw one guarding a discarded piece of furniture, since Silas protected an abandoned child.

Silas adopted the little girl and named her Eppy. That's short for "Hepzibah", a name found in the Bible, which means "my joy is in her".

I decided to post what my crow drawings look like now, but when I looked at what I put up, I said to myself these drawings weren't the best comparisons; I think I could pat myself on the back for my use of color 2 years ago, while my recent drawing looks rather sloppy. Oh well.

By the way, did you know George Eliot was a girl? Female authors weren't widely accepted, so that was a pen name.

BLACK CARP

I couldn't title yesterday's photo story "Black Carp" because the following snippet had already been written...was it way back in 2017?:

BLACK CARP

Then there was the day I was standing on Main Bridge watching the carp get fed. People at the feeding landing for the carp and turtles in Quasi Pond were giving them food.

I say "feeding the turtles", but they're so slow and have such small mouths, the carp usually get food thrown in their direction before they get there.

With one exception.

When humans were tossing out food to carp, I noticed black shadows leaped off the bridge where I was and flew to intercept it!

"Hey, that was for the carp!"

"But we're just flying carp!" the crows insisted: "haven't you heard of black carp?"

With the morsels of food in between their beaks, the crows returned to the bridge, where they continued to dive repeatedly for "black carp" food.

I think some of the carp heard the crows and acted like they took them seriously.

A few days later, at Duck Pond, I saw a black carp struggling in the reeds, flapping her pectoral fins furiously, pretending, I think, like she was "trying to learn to fly." She knew full well that's for the birds.

CAN'T STAY HERE TOO LONG

PHOTO STORY TIME

1 Today's gonna be a scorcher

2 Wanna take a splash

3 Can't stay here too long tho'

4 Humans might mistake me for a black carp

unfinished (pt. 3)

The last 2 pictures posted are actually the first two on the zine. I wasn't sure about posting them because I've already shown you so many pictures of these two, but since I've shown you the other 5 critters of the zine, it didn't seem exactly fair not to show them.

COFFEE the crow is yes, my "artist friend" who has adopted the name "Ble Curie de Sans" (Black Iridescence). No, he did not make this zine; I did. Really.

The critter on the first page?

BILBO my trusty pal in the Irrigation Ditch. I hear Red Ear Sliders are popular pet turtles in the U.S. Bilbo would be elated to have an owner do something about her shell situation. A casual observer may not notice right away, but it stopped growing at a certain point while the rest of her body kept getting bigger, so in some places, it looks like she is wearing a playsuit instead of being completely hidden by armor.

I've sketched so many turtles--I counted 49 pictures the other day--they hold still so are ideal for amateur artists like me.

I hope the other critters understand I might draw them less, but I still consider them ideal friends.

--------------------------------

I have an appointment to a dentist in Shinjuku today. A temporary "cap" has come off one of my front teeth. Again, God seems to have yanked the temperature down a few degrees for me, looking at the week's forecast--thank You so much, Father!

A BROKEN--STRONGER--HEART

The other day, one of my crow friends posed for me, and altho' he looked like an eagle at first, I realized when I drew him, it was not at all the image I sketched. It was of a lonely bird!

Blackie the crow and his mother had always been together, until she sacrificed herself to make sure he got away--from then on, he showed up by himself. Whenever he landed on a branch, he would not feel the familiar second bounce; bathing in the stream meant not seeing a second reflection in the water; and catching a worm meant not feeling a playful tug on the other end anymore. I'd never associated feelings with crows before, but for at least a month, I sensed something akin to mourning from Blackie.

But while animals usually do not care for those of other species, it was Blackie, a crow, I saw fly off of his branch to protect a weak carp from human teasing. It seems the crow with the broken heart had a capacity the other crows did not know.

Could it be God could make you better than what you know now, by bringing situations in your life that break your heart? Hm.

BRUSH PENS? THAT WAS FAST!

It's raining again--sigh. Do You want me to stay home and put up some other things on the blog, Lord?

Last year was the time I began experimenting with these brush pens, and I had to post some drawings with them, Altho' before brush pens, I'd been spending quite a bit of time drawing endless detail with colored pencil, I found I could work pretty quickly with these, and they gave me much brighter color than the pencils. Here are some of them:

Turtle bubbles, two carp...Basking mallard & reflections on pond surface...After dentist visit, promised romp at the park

Crow surveys field...Teal fly lands on red leaf atop black boulder

I asked Kinya yesterday to order some brush pen replacements online for me. I thot it would be at least a few days, but I guess the company branch just happened to be making deliveries, because the doorbell rang, and they were just delivered!

The only thing I know faster than that is when God answers before I call.

This feller seemed to want to know what I was doing, so. I let him see--I was sketching a red dragonfly!

Today's drawing one won, hands down...wings down?

I gotta say, I wasn't sure about showing the drawing I did yesterday of the crow because I'd posted the black butterfly right before it. But after I colored in today's drawing, I want to post it--what do you think?

I like crows, but the picture of a crow preening, you can't really tell it's a bird, can you? I showed the picture to my husband and asked, "Can you tell what it is?" 

He stared hard and said, "Bird, right?" but I think that had to be an educated guess; there are few other living things on tree branches...that is, there are no monkeys at the park.

Here is today's drawing. Someone left a tan collapsible umbrella on the boulder, and with the blooms of bougainvillea behind it and the backdrop greenery, it was too pretty not to sketch--even if the crow didn't hang around to help with the composition.

Speaking of which--I tried to have 3 focal points of interest. 1: the crow; 2: the umbrella, and 3: the bougainvillea bush.

When I was leaving, an egret came, so I drew him in too. (Can you see him in the top left corner?) Some say that will throw off the composition number, so I added a branch of bigger leaves at the top center of the drawing to help them feel better.

I'm glad, relieved, and amazed that my Father sees me as endearingly beautiful no matter how I'm put together...but at the same time always knows how to make me better too.

I JUST FORGOT

"You just forgot?!"

That's what the "caw" sounded like. It seemed the crow looked at me like he couldn't believe anybody would be in such a hurry to leave for the park, she would forget to take her pen and notepad. Even the cellphone to keep track of the time or to take pictures for future reference, I'd left at home.

Another annoyed caw. "You forgot?!"

Hey, don't rub it in. I'll draw a picture of you from the photo of you taken the other day, okay?

The crow looked relieved. The egret, GBH, turtle, carp, mallard, butterfly, and kawasemi all came today too, but none of them were getting their pictures drawn!

"You just forgot?" he seemed to caw again. Groan. He wasn't being mean. Animals don't know how. He really couldn't get over it.

But sometimes, I think that's not a completely bad thing. "Not getting over" our mistakes, I mean. It does keep us humble, keeps us from getting a big head, so that if someone comes along in the future and makes the same stupid mistake, we're not so quick to tear them apart. 

JUST PARK ANIMALS

Call me crazy. But I tell you, SOMEONE who reads blogs is telling the critters at the park about the posts!

Because I wrote about the animals in Okinawa coming out where it was warmer, and not to be outdone, when I went back to the park up here in Iwatsuki, altho' it's still Feb., in one day I was met with spot-billed mallards, greenhead mallards, egrets, great blue herons, kawasemi, turtles, carp, pigeon, wagtail, thrush, and the usual crow and sparrow.

Then I wrote about the Cormorant, and from the neighboring river, not only did the cormorant come to the park, and not only did he bring a companion, but as I wrote in my post, he brought 2!

Yesterday, I posted a drawing made 2 years ago, made from imagination. I found another one made of the birds at the park, but it included the Starling. Altho' I thought about posting it, I said to myself I haven't seen Starlings here for months now (it is an autumn bird), so maybe I shouldn't post it...but when I walked into the park this afternoon, guess what bird first met my eye? The Starling!

"Starlings don't wink, do they?" I e-mailed my sister. It felt like this one did!

Today, for reasons I won't go into, I didn't take my memo or drawing pens with me. But it seems the birds were all smiling and trying to keep me guessing. Egrets, kawasemis, herons, crows, wagtails, thrushes were all out, joined by turtles and carp.

"What? You think we can understand human words or something?" they seemed to say; "We're just park animals!"

Um, pretend I'm not here...

On the way to the park, I usually pass an old apartment building. but I noticed everyone had moved out, weeds had grown all over the place, and yup, the cranes and wreckers came in to tear the place down.

Today though, besides the workers, there were other living creatures moving around on the mounds of dirt--there were two crows, hopping about, looking for...bugs? worms? I'm not sure what they were looking for. Little birds called Hakusekirei came too (I call them "My Silver-Tuxedoed Birdlings", because that's what they look like to me), but they flew away as soon as they saw me.

"Hey, you're up close today!" I called out to the crows; "Can I draw you?" But they didn't answer.

The crows seemed too engrossed in looking for whatever it was they wanted to fill their stomachs with, they didn't give me much notice. But maybe that's good. They didn't run away; in fact, kept coming back and letting me see what they looked like from various angles so I could keep drawing them.

Sometimes circumstances look like we aren't being given the attention we deserve, even being ignored. But maybe God knows it's better left that way.

You're Too Far Away

"Hey June," they seemed to caw as they whizzed by, "you say we're your favorite birds, but you're sketching the spot-billed mallards, the greenheads, the kawasemi, the egret, the great blue heron...You were kidding us, huh?"

"Wait a minute. I still think your black iridescence is beautiful. But you guys always stay so far away, it's hard to sketch you. And even when crows do come up close, you don't stay still..."

"But what about the time you saw us squabbling for that breakfast worm? It was on the nextdoor rooftop, and just an instant, but it stayed in your mind, and you did a full picture with that."

"And there was the time you were doing this thing called 'Gesture Drawing' that required you to draw things quickly, even animals in motion, I think. I was perched atop a pole when you started sketching real quick once and said it wasn't going to be a detailed drawing, you just wanted to show the feel of the picture. Actually, I really like it."

"Remember the mallard ducklings? I remember when they were really little, the mother mallard and even you were really defensive about my coming too close to where they were. But now that they're as big as the others, it's okay for us to be friends. June, you saw me one day hopping close to the water and staring at the mallard across the creek. But it's not like we're best friends, just across-the-water pals. And you saw that and decided first to take a photo of it, then go home and draw a picture from that photo. I've seen it."

"Those pictures June, what's wrong with them? Do we have to pose for you up close for a long time to have something to call a really nice picture?

I guess not.

But that's what we do with God. We decide how He's going to work, and if things don't happen just that way, we think it hasn't happened, even if there's really nothing wrong with other things He's done.

AHN'S MOTHER

I forgot to tell you--the end of 2022--Dec, 31, my COVID had cleared, and I did a last spurt on reading the Japanese translation of If I Perish, that book about Esther Ahn Kim. I finished all 609 pages of it. (Thank you for praying!)

Ahn not only made it over the border into free Korea, but the chapter ended with her leaving the country to give testimony, in the U.S., of God's unmistakable power. I couldn't help but cry when the last memory she had of her mother was how she urged Ahn to go for even a few short months to encourage the believers there. "We will always be meeting later SomeDay," the older woman had told her.

That was so consistent with the way she had lived. Few mothers would speak of their daughters needing to prepare to die, as did this one, the years before real persecution began--and she stood by and watched Ahn's choosing of rotten foods, even living in bacteria-ridden places to strengthen physical resistance. They were training themselves for the hardships of prison life! Years later, on the day her incarcerated daughter was about to be released from prison because of failing eyesight, this mother reminded her when she gave her life to God, she gave Him her eyes too! Ahn bows gratefully to her mother for the reminder and instead of seeking freedom, returns to her prison cell. The mother could not see Ahn's form disappearing behind those gray walls--as many other persecuted Christians, she herself had become blind.

This mother--who didn't know how to cry--but was entrusted with the gift of laughter to put the entire prison compound in stitches...this mother made a strong impression on me when I read the book decades ago in English, and the impact was just as great reading the book in Japanese this time around.

When Ahn and her mother meet in Heaven...and my moms and I will be there too...I wonder, what language will we be speaking in?