A blustery breeze blows this last morning of March as I walk a mile from our home to a grove of trees. I bend down to stretch and meditate: Thank you Lord for this walk. Thank you that I can.Gray clouds cover the sky. Fluffy snowflakes zip by. I wonder: Will winter end?
In the distant skies, I hear: Sand-hill cranes zither... Canada geese honk... Mallard ducks quack... Sounds of Spring migration. HOPE... at The Altar.
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