Ode to Autumn

The season of mists and mellow fruitfulness is truly upon us. The acorns are falling from the oak tress at the very suggestion of a breeze like heavy, hard, rain. And the horse chestnuts do the same only with a little more force. While a walk in a wood with sweet chestnut trees is even more painful as the spikes on those fruits really do hurt. And at the local sports ground the men have stopped selling car boots for the summer and gone back to playing with their oddly shaped balls.

But some mornings recently I've seen the golden side of the season. I've watched the reddish orange of the sun burn off the same mists as it crawled its way towards the zenith. The light has flooded the woods where the brownish red carpet of freshly fallen leaves has reflected it so that the whole area is filled with the glow. And it was on one such morning when it happened.

I came across a pigeon, minding its own business, scratching out a living amongst the woodland debris. It launched itself into energetic flight and the downdraft from its wings propelling it upwards scattered the leaves on the ground. Lost in the wonder of that moment I continued my walk and remember chaos theory. You may recall that a few years ago it was popular amongst scientists as a way of explaining the mysteries of the universe. That is until it was overtaken by strings - or whatever is new at present.

Chaos theory postulated that the flapping of a butterfly's wing in the Amazon basin was the direct cause of the mighty hurricane battering the American coastline and beyond. For a time it was the new idea on the block. But it wasn't new, I recalled that golden autumn morning. It really was a quite old theory.

I think it was the ancient Greeks who believed in chaos - in a world without order. This was in spite of Alexander the Great who tried to impose their order on the rest of the world. But perhaps that was after this chaotic theory of everything time. For, you see, science as we know it was born. And the midwife for the birth was the idea that there was something, someone, some deity, behind the seeming chaos. There was an order and there was a plan. Science as we now know it began as an attempt to discover this order and plan - and remains its objective to this day.

Without the belief in a plan or planner there can be no science. If there is only chaos then there is no order to discover.

I thought all this as I walked through a carpet of autumn leaves scattered randomly across the floor of the woodland. I wondered where the order was when it could be so easily disturbed by the fluttering wings of a fleeing pigeon.

Then I remembered that there is a god whose followers tell me that he knew me when I was in the womb, can count the hairs on my head as well as the stars in the sky and even cares when a sparrow falls or is sold for two small coins. What is seemingly chaos to our eyes is in fact a greater order to his supreme vision. We may not understand it, scientists still grope towards it with their imperfect human theories, but the order and the plan are still there.

And I find that kind of re-assuring as the long hot days of summer rain move towards the cold dark night of winter frosts.

A Sparrow Falls

Michael Jackson is dead. I'm sorry that I'm a little bit behind with the news. But then, so is Marjorie Jones. I guess you're fed up with hearing about Michael Jackson so let me tell you what I know about Marjorie Jones.

She was 84. She used to live in Spain during the winter and in England during the summer. The English winters were too cold and damp for her and the Spanish summers too hot. She also wanted to avoid catching a cold because her chest was not the best.

Not long before she died she was admitted to hospital in Spain. Her family was concerned for her. Although she was discharged after only one night they felt things were not right. So they moved forward her summer home coming so that they could arrange for her to be seen by medical staff whose first language was English.

On the flight home - probably - she picked up a chest infection. She was admitted to the local hospital for aggressive antibiotic treatment. She died after a couple of days from severe respiratory failure. She died the same day as Michael Jackson.

So, why am I sharing this with you?

If you watch 'The West Wing' series 2 - 'Under the Shadow of Two Gunmen' - CJ, the White House Press Secretary is briefing about an attack in which the President gets shot. She lists off all the other victims of gun crime that took place in the same time frame as that attack. She does that to make a point about the gun laws in the US. I'm telling you about Marjorie to make another point.

Michael and Marjorie were not the only ones to die that day. Many were killed in car crashes. Some by roadside bombs in the troubled parts of the world. For others it was expected as their lives reached their natural conclusions. Some took matters into their own hands because the pain - physical or mental - had become too much. And those who loved them, knew them, cherished them, were sorrowful at their passing.

Not all of these had the benefit of a worldwide television audience - or even the population of a Wiltshire village lining their main street - to mark their passing. Most would have had a simple ceremony where family and friends would gather to share, and remember, and grieve.

But what of those in sub Saharan Africa who simple fall to the ground as the strength leaves their frail bodies? Or the faceless, invisible people in a Glasgow tenement who die when their kidneys fail to remove the excess of alcohol and lie undiscovered for days, weeks, months or even years? And there are those who simply disappear all over the world, in every society, because they are truly and completely alone. Do you note their passing?

Do I?

All I know is that someone does - because he cares for the two sparrows that are sold for three farthings. 

Pieces of Fruit for Healthy Living

 ....

I'm a fan of "Old Harry's Game". This is a radio comedy programme written by Andy Hamilton who plays Satan. It deals with the day to day problems of running hell - if there are days in hell! It's funny at a surface level and, at the deeper level, makes you think.

 ....

For instance in the latest series a dog turns up in hell. Satan is puzzled. How can a dog commit a sin? After some amusing musings Satan concludes that God has made a mistake. His assistant ripostes that "God doesn't make mistakes". Satan has an answer for that - "If God doesn't make mistakes, why did He give His chosen people the only piece of the Middle East with no oil?" A very good one liner I thought. The assistant came back with another - "They've got plenty of oranges though".

 ....

Then I thought a bit deeper. I know that God doesn’t make mistakes, so why was that particular oil free piece of real estate chosen as the Promised Land? Maybe it means that we don't need the oil. Perhaps God is trying to tell us the pre-industrial farming society model is better than our dependence on fossil fuel current so called civilized model.

 ....

In those earlier times life was much more simple. So was death. If there wasn't enough food to support the group through the winter, people died. There were diseases and other checks on population growth that meant we were closer to the rhythm of the natural world - and perhaps closer to the God who is its Creator and Sustainer. I've even read somewhere that, if all else failed and people started to outgrow the land that could support them, some of them went off to fight some others. That theory was that population pressures cause all wars.

 ....

Many people will agree that it is only in our present industrial society that some evils have come into the world. Global warming is probably the least of our worries as societies across the planet reel under the collapse of a system of putting trust into promissory notes and debased currencies all supported by non existent securities. Having oil under your land can be seen as only making matters worse. I mean, just think about the changes it has made in British Society - and we are still in a mess.

 ....

So, perhaps God didn't make a mistake in not giving His chosen people oil.

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So, who did make the mistake?

 ....

The industrial revolution is a British creation. It was in this green and pleasant land that people moved in droves from the fields into the growing conurbations that are our towns and cities. It could be said that we made the mistake. We could blame Abraham Darby and his colleagues who started it all at Coalbrookdale and Ironbridge.

 ....

But we shouldn't.

 ....

James Burke had a TV series called "Connections" and he blamed the Egyptians. They invented the plough that meant that one man could produce more food than one man could eat. That left the other man to do something else. The first thing he came up with was pots to keep the excess food in until it was needed. Writing swiftly followed so that they would know what was in the pots without having to open them. It was downhill from then on.

 ....

On balance I have to conclude that God doesn't make mistakes. It's humankind that mucks everything up. If anyone is to blame, we are.

 ....

Maybe we should have stuck to eating the oranges He so generously provided instead of tasting the apples that looked so attractive.

Sofa Springs

I've been thinking about the credit crunch. Well, who hasn't? It struck me that a million pounds - even if it was in fifty pound notes - would need an awfully big sofa for it to fall down the back and be lost. And these banks are talking in terms of billions of pounds. I suppose banks just have even bigger sofas than the rest of us.

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But then another thought crossed my mind. Serendipity means that I even know where it came from! There was this phrase, you see, that would carry my musing forward - follow the money. Listening to the radio while walking the dog I discovered that the phrase was made up by the screenwriters of 'All the President's Men' and put into the mouth of Deep Throat. However, let's just do that for a minute.

 ....

Banks have lost billions of pounds. Where's it gone if not down the back of their sofas? It's gone into someone else's pockets. In one or two cases they are even now chasing after some of the people who purloined it! Put it another way it's gone out there into the economy to turn the wheels of commerce. So why are we in a mess?

 ....

Because it was never there in the first place. It was made up money. It was 'credit' that existed nowhere except on a balance sheet that is now hopelessly out of balance.

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So, how did we get into this mess?

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Another thought came to me on another dog walk - and it was another movie connection.

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In the film 'Being There' Peter Sellars played Chauncy Gardener (see it but don't expect 'The Pink Panther'). Well, that's not strictly true. He played Chance the gardener. He was a simple man who worked for someone recognised as a financial wizard looking after his flowers. When the employer died somehow - I forget exactly how - Chance was mistaken for a similar expert.

 ....

I remember the scene when in the presence of the President (of the United States) Chance was asked when he thought the economy would turn upwards. But they didn't actually say that. They asked when he thought there would be growth. Chance replied, in his simple, garden based, way that "In the spring there would be growth". The President and the others gathered around read what they wanted into his simple statement. That pronouncement alone was enough to turn everything around and guarantee the revival.

 ....

As I walk the dog at present I see the signs of growth and spring. Small purple crocus like flowers are out in the woods. Woodpeckers are banging their heads against tree trunks to tell others that this patch is mine. There's even an alder tree that as soon as it has shaken off the snow optimistically put out green shoots. And on Valentine's Day - when according to Shakespeare (A Midsummer's Night Dream) the birds start making their young - Alfie once more took up his position looking hopefully at the neighbour's eaves for an easy lunch.

 ....

Yes, there are signs of growth and the spring. But we're still in deep economic trouble. Because we don't stick to the basics. If you can't afford it, don't buy. You never get something for nothing.

And if the deal is too good to be true, then it probably isn't true after all.

 ....

Jesus said a lot about what's important in life. He said a lot about money too. If you read what he said you might just get the message that there are lots of things more important than money and pursing them may just bring you more lasting satisfaction than all the money in the world.

 ....

Three things are certain though. Those things are real, not made up and never get lost down the back of any sofas.

For Old Time's Sake?

I don't know if you're anything like me but this Advent season past I went to several different Carol Services. Some were 'traditional' organised by 'traditional' church fellowships. Those with a different worshipping tradition arranged others. They had one obvious thing in common though.

We sang the same carols at both types of gatherings.

As is my want that set me thinking. Surely there are some more recent songs to sing for the season where in our Saviour's birth is celebrated? A quick trawl through the more modern hymn book confirmed that there were. In fact one or two of them had even been sung in the Advent season - and at a 'traditional' church gathering to boot! But there was a difference with these more recent offerings.

In general - and I'm sure some of you out there will put me right with examples of those which break this rule - the more modern Christmas songs cover the whole story. They start in the squalor of the borrowed stable, journey through the ministry and, via the death on a cross of wood, end before the throne triumphant. On the face of it there's nothing wrong with all that. After all, the stable scene at Bethlehem was the start of the whole process, wasn't it?

So why did the churches that you would expect to make greater use of the more modern tunes and words revert to treading the well trodden paths of the faithful on their way to adoration? I can't speak for them but feel it is because when we think of Christmas, we think of the Victorian image of Christmas with a baby in an ox's stall. To use the 'story' songs that start at that point and carry to singer to the glory hereafter would weaken that familiar picture. Perhaps it would even spoil Christmas. For what would Christmas be without the carols?

Well, it would be Advent, wouldn't it? A time of reflection and preparation for a season of parties that Shakespeare told us lasted for 12 nights and my old school hymn book said went on to February 2nd.! Often we skip over Advent in our rush towards Christmas, particularly if we're going to get all those celebratory meals in.

So I was left thinking it was a good thing to focus on the birth of Jesus alone in the Advent~Christmas season and the old carols are full of theology, as well as Victorian imagery, to help us do it.

Having got this far I began to wonder what the season was saying to me this year. I realised the old and the new songs had both got it wrong. On the one hand the whole event couldn't be wrapped up in swaddling bands and seen as an isolated 'Nativity' event. And on the other hand there was an important part of the story being missed out in the manager to throne narrative offerings.

The judgement seat was being skipped over.

For me the true message of the events at Christmas has become the beginning of the process that would lead to the end of the world as we know it. God decided to give humankind one last chance. By becoming a man in Bethlehem events were set in process that would inevitably lead to the second coming and the judgement of the world.  This is no fresh revelation. I mean, it was 2007 when the church I attend focussed on that second coming during Advent so if anything I'm at least a year behind with this offering to the debate.

Before Jesus was born in Bethlehem there was no end in sight to the existence of the world on which we live. After that moment events had been put into motion that lead specifically to the end of the world. We who believe declare it as a truth - Christ will come again. Even though he died and was raised from the dead, the story is not over until he returns to judge the sheep and the goats. That story's first chapter was written in a stable in a small town at the centre of a country under enemy occupation.

That's my Christmas reflection. The end of the world is coming because God became a man in Bethlehem. And went he was grown up he went on to tell us and show us what we had to do. Even death could not hold him for he has got eternal life.

And if we want the same we need to see beyond the tinsel and look at the true meaning of the festive season.

On the 'Today' programme - Radio 4's flagship morning news programme - recently they were talking about the proposal that there could be compulsory lessons in sex and relationships in schools. Only they didn't always put it quite that way. The correspondent whose report it was - and the newsreader that introduced the report - put it another way. They said the government were considering making sex and relationship education compulsory - which is slightly, all be it essentially, different.

Sometimes the way we use words can be confusing and have an entirely different meaning to the one we intended.

The same morning 'Thought for the Day' focussed on the poster campaign started in London by the British Humanist Association. They are having advertisements saying 'There probably isn't a God. So stop worrying and get on with enjoying your life.' The speaker - a Christian - started her
talk from the point of view that she knew there was a God and she didn't worry and was quite enjoying her life most of the time.

There's a Latin legal phrase - post hoc ergo propter hoc - for the statement on the poster. It means simply because I have stated the one fact I believe in the other facts follow on - even when they don't. The British Humanist Association is saying if you believe there is a God you
will worry and not have a good time. We know that is wrong.

Sometimes the way we use words can be confusing.

Maybe the British Humanist Association is in need of Relationship Education? We won't mention  the sex.

The Gospel reading set for most churches the following Sunday morning was the familiar one about loving God first and then your neighbour as yourself. Maybe it's too familiar. Maybe we overlook exactly what's being said in that passage because of that familiarity. The Old Testament reading chosen to complement this part of Christ's teaching provides a handy list of dos and don'ts against which it is easy to assess our 'love' for our neighbour. But we all know that love isn't about lists or rules. It's about a relationship and that's one way of looking at what Jesus quoted in that reading is saying to us.

God wants a relationship with each one of us. And God is telling us - ordering us - requiring us - to have that relationship in exactly the same way as the relationship we have with everyone we meet. And He knows that we all need educating over that. That's why He sent His Son. That's why the Spirit came. That's why we can look at the words written in the Bible and see through the confusion, moving towards the eternal truths.

The service I went to that Sunday morning was looking once again at the healing that God offers to us all. Make no mistake about it we all need healing. The relationship we have with our Father/Mother God is not perfect. If it was there would be no need for Jesus to have come and lived and died and to have risen again. We need to remember that. And our ever generous God even made sure that we would remember. 'On the night He was to be betrayed Jesus took the bread, blessed it and gave it to His disciples saying "This is my body that will be broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me."'

And that's not the only thing that he says to us through the Bible. We all know that His last instructions to all His disciples was to go into the world and make all humankind His disciples - healing the sick. If you prefer that could be to give compulsory relationship education to those
who are worrying and not enjoying life and don't really know if there is a God or not.

Make no mistake about all this though. Relationships have a two way responsibility. God expects us to do something as well. He expects us to follow the instructions and go into the world and provide that necessary relationship education.

And there is never any confusion over the way God uses words.

Lessons from cats:

It's about time I wrote about cats. I've been intimately connected with two in recent years and they've taught me a lot. And, come to think about it, as companions on my spiritual journey, they've been around for most of it.

I'll post in the next week or so a piece I wrote some time ago when winters were winter and there was snow. You know, that white stuff that hung around for days, stop trains running and made children happy to have a new friend in the back garden along with unlimited permission to throw things at one another - and their parents. But back to the more recent past.

Archie was our first cat. There's a lot to say about him and his life with us. He's not with us now and it still hurts to remember him so the full story is for another day. However, he did put you in touch with the almighty.

I'm not on about the saying that the Egyptians once believed cats were gods and some cats haven't forgotten it. Nor am I revisiting Douglas Adam's man at the end of the universe who used to think that he'd discuss problems put to him by possibly imaginary visitors with THE LORD - his cat. No. Archie always saw us as the almighty ones.

You see when he went out in the morning and it was raining we knew we were in for a rough time. In a matter of minutes he'd be back in and pouncing on our bed. Whatever was left sticking out above the duvet got bit or scratched. He saw us as his almighty power - because we fed him I suppose - and he expected us to make it stop raining.

If only life was that simple!

Alfie is another bundle of fur completely. Much more laid back and resigned to getting wet as he sits under a bush. It was a surprise the other day when he brought a pigeon home that he'd managed to kill. It was only later that we realised that the pile of feathers marking the point of execution was right next to the bush under which he sat to watch the world go by. That meal had dropped literally into his lap.

But this year Alfie has taught me an awful lot about hope and expectation.

In the eaves of the house next-door some sparrows or other small birds make a nest. Alfie was aware of this when in the early spring he watched the adults flitting to and fro with the building materials. He took to sitting at the foot of the wall looking up at the nest site. He knew what they were doing and hoped that something tasty was going to drop into his mouth.

As spring turned to early summer the young birds hatched out. Alfie could hear them and watched more intently as mum and dad raced back and forth desperately feeding them. "Surely they could spare one?" Alfie was thinking as he sat at the corner below. But nothing ever came his way.

In the end he got so desperate that he found that he could climb up the corner of the wall and get really close to the nest. You knew when he was doing this because the alarm calls echoed round the garden. However, the nest was still out of reach under the eaves. Alfie figured out that he could stick a paw in and scoop out a feast. The only snag was that he couldn't cling to the wall with only three feet. All the got for his trouble was a ten feet fall back to the point he'd started from.

Summer became late summer and the parents infuriated Alfie by raising a second brood. Never the less he was not to be deterred. Day after day he would spend a while sitting at the bottom of the wall looking up at the out of reach mid morning snack. In fact it became such a habit that long after the nest was deserted he'd go on sitting there. He was determined that nothing was going to escape his grasp. He'd even wait so long that he'd fall asleep. If you don't believe me I've uploaded some photos onto my MySpace site for you to see.

So, what's the point of all this?

Well, as I said, we can learn a lot from cats. We can learn that sometimes things don't go the way we'd like them to. No matter what we believe often there is nothing anyone can do about it - not even those we see as all powerful. Maybe they - and God - have their own agenda.

But like Alfie we can live in hope. No matter how inaccessible something attractive to us appears we can - and should - keep trying to reach it. Often we'll fall, sometimes more than 10 feet. But if we have hope and hang on in there one day what we are desperate to reach will simply drop into our laps.

Like a big fat pigeon in front of the bush we're sheltering under from the ever present rain.

Some of my regular readers - well, the only one I know about actually - have noticed that I've not posted much lately. I'm sorry to say that is because I've been working and that has left very little time for anything else. You'd be surprised how tiring standing at bus stops can be. However you do get to see an extraordinary variety of life.

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It was while driving back from one of these passenger counts I heard on the radio a short item about schools. The head of a humanities department was commenting - complaining I think, or arguing for a greater pay rise - about how much of his time was being taken up with children who were disruptive in class. In a sort of negative and derogatory manner he said something along the lines of "And when I ask them why they've not been working like the rest of the students the usual reply is 'I can't do it, I'm thick.'"

 ....

Now that really got my goat. I remembered my mum who worked in a junior school on the edge of one of the toughest housing estates in my city at the time. I remember how she chose to take the remedial children as they were called in those days. I can even remember one of the lessons she taught about the Israelites fleeing the Egyptians and hiding in the desert. Those kids learnt something by hiding amongst their desks and never felt they were too thick.

 ....

Don't get me wrong. My mum was no wonder teacher. She didn't change their worlds. She still kept track of her former pupils by reading the court reports in the local paper. But she connected with her pupils. I recall the time a widow in our street got robbed and she went storming off to the 'pub on the estate where she met one of her former pupils. She told him in no uncertain terms that whoever had broken into the house had hurt this lady badly. My mum told him to put the matter right. All the stolen goods were returned within a few days.

 ....

Books and films tell of this ordinary teachers connecting with extraordinary pupils. "To Serve Them All My Days", "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie", "Goodbye Mr. Chips", "To Sir With Love", "Up the Down Staircase" and "Please Sir" are the ones that come immediately to my mind. All of these and my mother's remembered experiences show me one thing.

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No matter what that head of faculty says about disruptive behaviour in the classroom, it is not the pupil's fault.

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It's the same when you look at the church. Regularly complaints are heard that the great unwashed out there use it at their convenience. They like to be married in church - especially if it's photogenic. They like to have their children christened, baptised or dedicated. They like to think that their earthly remains will be laid to rest by the same institution. And between times they never set foot in the place - unless it's for the Carol Service. Regular church goers are left to carry the load of keeping the place going. Surely if they want it there at these points of passage, they should be around at the rest of the time to help with the care, financing and maintenance of the building?

 ....

Just in case you're wondering, it's not their fault that there not.

 ....

I even heard recently that the Church of England is seeking the appointment of a Minister of Religion because our established church is feeling marginalized in the current multi faith society. Maybe it is. But, if that is so, it's not the government's fault is it?

 ....

We live in a society where everyone is quick to look for someone else to take the blame. After all we have every confidence that we are in the right so it cannot be our fault. Or can it?

 ....

I'm just glad that I know someone who was ready to own up to his own mistakes. And what's more he took on everyone else's faults as well. He took them to the cross.

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His name was Jesus.

Walking in the Woods

Spring has come to the dog walking woods near my home. Each morning - or most of them - my dog and I have squealed through the mud in order to get our early morning exercise. Some days the mud has been deeper than on others that only goes to prove that it is truly spring. But I've noticed other signs as well.

First I saw the grass start to grow. Most of the wood is crisscrossed with paths so it only grows near to the trunks of the many trees. I suppose it manages to over winter there because no one ever walks that close to trees. As the days have warmed up it has burst into fresh green drifts of spring life recalling the brief snowy interludes of the winter past.

Then there were the bluebells. They burst into life as soon as they could. Their aim was to put out their flowers and complete the necessary life cycle of seed sowing before the trees got going and robbed them of their light. So for a few short days the carpet in some areas of the wood was bluish violet and not green.

The new growth came next. Dry sticks that stood there all winter suddenly exploded with leaves at their end. Shoots spring up through the detritus. Growth replaced dormancy. The barren earth revealed its ability to sustain and support fresh life.

More life now came onto the scene. The trees put on their brand new summer clothes. The leaf canopy exploded overhead. The light at floor level was reduced and the grass no longer looked so full of life. The bluebells returned to a measure of dormancy and the fresh shoots sensed the enormity of the task before them as they battled ever upwards towards the light and the heights.

The last thing I noticed on my early morning strolls was that the squirrels have all disappeared. All winter long they have been there scurrying over the mud, looking for nuts and drawing my dog to the full length of her lead as she tries to race after them. Now that spring is fully upon us they are nowhere to be seen. Don't get me wrong. They're still there but now hidden by the leaf canopy that is with us until the frosts and high winds of autumn.

These simple observations set me thinking. I recalled how Jesus used images drawn from nature and life around him to teach his message of love. I wonder what sense he would have made of all this. He might have commented that the church which came into being following his Ministry is a bit like the wood in spring time.

The grass that is the first to sprout fresh are those people who wait for the time to be right to show themselves in all their freshness. This often happens when everyone else is tried or worn out. The grass of the church could be those spirit led people who can see the better days coming before anyone else. Their enthusiasm encourages others. These are the bluebells. They know what they have to do and know that it is best done quickly. Instinctively they know what is coming and want to get their project over before others thing happen.

So where do the new shoots fit in? Well, challenged by the grass and encouraged by the bluebells fresh - not necessarily new - expressions of aspects of church life burst into life. They are full of the enthusiasm and energy of the spring growth in the woods. For a time it looks like their vitality is going to lead the church into a new direction. But then the leaf canopy comes out.

This cuts off the light and overwhelms the bluebells. The grass struggles on but it knows that life is now hard again for another season. Even the energetic and forceful fresh growth is stunted by the all enveloping shade. Their vibrant growth becomes a struggle through the shadows towards the light. So. What is the leaf canopy? I guess it's the on going pressures from maintaining the life and mission of the church as it is. Everyone is working so hard to stand still that there is simply not enough time or manpower to consider doing something fresh, let alone anything new.

But that's where the squirrels come in. Now hidden in the depths of the leaf canopy they get on with the work that they are called to do. Remember that a squirrel knows where it has hidden every one of the hundreds of nuts it set aside to live on over the winter. The spring blossoming into summer begins that cycle again. The squirrels are out there gathering what is necessary from amongst the leaf canopy so that when the time and circumstances are right fresh, vibrant, enthusiastic, energetic, growth can burst through the detritus on the floor of the woods and strive ever upwards towards the light.

That's my take on the spring in our woods. You could probably do better. I'm sure Jesus could. Because there's a man who always was able to see the complete wood no matter how many trees got in the way.