The transition from winter into spring is a gradual thing in my pastoral part of the country. With a few surprise bonus early spring days that leave us grasping for more and rejoicing in that possibility! I don’t know why those days are called Indian summer days, but surely the Shawnee Nation loved them too, as they eagerly anticipated planting their corn, beans and squash in hills.

The gradual change sees brown fallow fields of dirt becoming greener, then carpets of purple clover emerge and finally great sweeping views of yellow as mustard weed sprouts up and flowers. What an artist is our Father God!

By now we are seeing flocks of sheep grazing on the hillsides of the oldest farm homesteads at either end of my road.

Where is my Shepherd? He must be very near. He comes not with prod or hook but with Love to gently and firmly corral me through out the Spring.