Birds? What birds?
I was up before dawn, this Easter morning. Boy they sure do hold dawn early these days. I vaguely recall there was a time when I could see it in from the other end of the day--you know, Lullaby of Broadway style?
But this is a different decade, thank goodness. And in this case I was up for Easter sunrise service and to act as Easter bunny to some friends of mine with a father just returned from a year's deployment with the U.S. Marines in the Middle East.
As the soft colors of pink began to glow in the sky over San Francisco Bay, I delivered a Semper Fi-licious basket to their Moffett Field digs.
Before I departed, in the dim light, I went out to check and see if Ms. Gimpy and Mr. Peanut were up early--but not a creature was stirring. I was the only nut case up at this hour.
I put on my bonnet and headed out but not before taking a photo, for the record, of this early bird in a hat. (It is fun to take pictures with the iPhone that show only part of my face.) (Especially at dawn.)
Attending service in a Lutheran church, I was the only lady in a hat. I know the nice ladies over at the Baptist church wear them, but for some reason Lutherans have given them up.
Heck with that. For thousands and thousands of years women have covered their heads on high holy days. I'm old enough now to march to my own drummer--or, in this particular case, to limp after my own milliner.
The older you get, the more decorative must be your costume. It is an excellent distraction from the other junk that isn't looking so hot.
Meanwhile, the flowers at church were so lovely. A reminder of the ancient rites associated with this day; with the open tomb; with the hope of better things to come. Missing my Dad and knowing his Faith walked with him in this life and into the next.
Apostles Lutheran Church, San Jose, California. Easter 2012.
Praying my own will one day be strong enough to do the same for me. Singing the beautiful and ancient (14th century) "Christ the Lord is Risen Today!"
Arriving home, I headed back outside to see if the Gimpy-Peanuts were finally up and about. I rattled the patio chair--their Pavlovian signal that the human person is there with food.
Both Ms. Gimpy and Mr. Peanut flew in and out of the maple tree as I sat down. I imagined they were feeling joyful too. And it was my old friend, Ms. Gimpy, all fluffed up and ruffled from sitting on her nest, who dove over to eat.
She and I have been friends since I helped her through a broken leg last summer. I never had to train her to eat from my hand--she just does. (Mr. Peanut will do it too, but he doesn't really like to, so I don't like to take his picture and embarrass him with his Scrub Jay pals at the pub who might take advantage and call him a sissy bird.)
What a lovely Easter morn. A returning hero, who made my friend Katie, their three children, and our nation grateful and proud. A hat. A sermon of forgiveness, hope and renewal.
And Ms. Gimpy, there to greet me and dig into her own Easter buffet. Can't wait to meet her family.
Me? I'm ready for another cup of coffee. And a nice, long nap.
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