Today I hunt for wild grapes. The vines are everywhere, climbing fences and trees and boulders along the wild country roads. Many of the vines are bare. But some have clusters of tiny purple grapes, miniatures of their cultivated cousins. A couple of light frosts have made them as sweet as they’re going to get… which is not very sweet. They’re far too tart to eat plain. But they make excellent jelly. I fill several ice cream pails and head home.
Today I watch spent leaves fall and flit away on the breeze. No longer anchored to their respective trees, they whirl wistfully below a steel blue sky threatening to pour out its soggy contents. Eventually they land. Chances are, however, they haven’t found their final resting places yet. Unless their footing is firm, they’ll tumble along with passing winds until a strong rain pins them down.
As I walk along, enjoying the leaf shower, God brings Ephesians 4:14-15 to mind. Paul is explaining that Christ equips His followers so we corporately bring glory to God and spur one another on to maturity when we exercise our spiritual gifts. Then he says, “As a result, we are no longer to be children, tossed here and there by waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by the trickery of men, by craftiness in deceitful scheming; but speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in all aspects into Him who is the head, even Christ”
Today I spot my first robin, rather my first robins. A flock of them searches out worms in a patch of sad-looking grass exposed by the receding snow. Just across the road, in the wetlands preserve, a red-winged blackbird perches on a well-weathered cattail. I roll down the window to listen for its trilled tune but it seems momentarily preoccupied with the finer points of survival.