God's Heart Unfolding

It's amazing what can happen
when you stop
and pay attention.

Lose yourself 
in a garden
staring at spring's* gifts

and you might see eternity
encapsulated,
God's heart unfolding

in the folding
of a butterfly's wings,
or perhaps you will uncover

a heaven of contentment
in the way
that a blackbird sings,

but only if you
stop
and pay attention.

*autumn, in this case

"Stop" by Gideon Heugh

Both our loquat trees are covered in blossom. When I went out to look, they were alive with red admirals, white-tailed bumble bees, wasps, a moth, and other winged creatures. Stood there in rapture, even stroked one, took over forty photos, hard to choose, but liked the eyes on this one.

Were looking forward to church, Adega and Sem Fim, but then decided it would be considerate to isolate for a few days and take a test before we have contact, especially as there are no cases in Mourão. 

Gratefuls:
- the gift, from Deb, of Gideon Heugh's poetry, Rumours of Light, totally love it
- making lunch (eaten outside in hot sunshine) from tomatoes still surviving in the garden, our tangerines for breakfast, and the last of the yellow roses on the table
- Mike's bread for supper, awaiting me now, and our own olives, and a small cheese that Maria gave us to take to Hélène, but we forgot