Monthly Archives: April 2012


Went down to Capistrano Beach last night, right at sunset. Capo Beach, as the locals call it, is located on the south end of Doheny State Beach in Dana Point. It still has some of the last fire rings in the county which makes it quite unique. You can also walk your dog, on the road mind you not on the sand, along the beach. It has a small town feel, a little burg sort of place smack dab in the middle of SoCal. It also has the original Olemendi’s. No better Mexican food in the county.

The whole of this place is not too much more than maybe a mile long, possibly a bit longer but not by much. On the east side of Coast Highway are the places to stay; motels, higher end sort of places and some timeshares.

I was on a third floor timeshare that my boyfriend’s sister and niece and grandniece were staying, inivited to dinner at the beach. Leaning out of the balcony watching the sunset over Doheny Beach I snapped a picture on my tiny little cell phone. The beauty of the Great Universe’s Artist was as usual unsurpassed by anything mere man could come up with.

So I decided that my Facebook friends should see it too. I can post things on Facebook from my phone, it is a skill that took some fine tuning, so I put it out to the universe through FB. I always to be sure it actually did go where I wanted the picture to go, as I am not so very techie in my attempts at some of the electronic things nowadays. Voila! It was there. I felt very, very modern, withit and a tinies bit tech-minded.

Until I opened Facebook this morning, checked my notifications and saw the caption I put on my great picture. It said “Sinset at Capo Beach”. Which started my thoughts winging their way out into the universe I sent the photo too.

Sin-set. Great play on words, great ideas that come with that. Sin setting is a task only God can accomplish. Setting sin away from us all. The picture has a shaft of sunlight blazing out of clouds to a precise point on the earth, slighty out of reach of the viewer. Precise setting sin away, directed light, piercing the darkness of sin; light that completely destroys and obliterates sin. Gone for good. Not even a shadow of it remains.

Now, if I could figure out how to post the picture on this blog, you could all see it too. The majesty of God’s great work, the simplicity of the moment at the beach last night and the promise of sin removed from us in that quickly snapped picture on that tiny cell phone. A true Sin-Set!!

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Spring Gardening

Sitting here at my computer, looking out on the lavender gently wafting their soft, clean scent through the almost warm air, I remember what it is about this time of year that makes my gardening genes roar. It is the bursting forth of the exuberance of new life. Joy at just being a flower, or a bee, or  a zebra finch placed outside in the safety of my nice big cage to sing with the wild birds.

I am reading Terry Hershey’s book, Soul Gardening, Cultivating the Good Life. I am reading it slowly, sometimes just a few pages at a time. It isn’t a huge book, somewhere around 160 pages or so, not daunting, not heavy in it’s message. It isn’t any of those that compels me to read it slowly, it is my own need to savor it, to take each thought it provokes to the very end of that thought, to sit back in my tiny little patio garden with  my little potted plants happily blooming in the spring sunshine and experience on a small-scale what he is writing about.

I have been sick, for over a week now, with what my doctor called a URI (upper respiratory infection), complete with laryngitis, cough that just won’t give up and go away (you know the kind that grips you so hard you loose your breath in trying to clear your throat, and it makes your eyes water and your nose turn on like a backyard hose) and a weariness of the body and soul that pulls my spirit down.  So the picking up of Terry’s book today was the Universe’s way of saying to me; look up from your misery and see the wonders God has placed before you, just for you today, in your need.

I opened up my French doors, to the sound of Mr. & Mrs. Finch in their joy at being outside, the caress of Four Frogs Fountain bubbling and tinkling in the sun by my patio wall and read just a few pages in Soul Gardening.

The real pleasure of gardening, for me anyway, isn’t the end product so much as tending the hope of new life in each little seedling, seed, tiny plant struggling to get out of its plastic store bin. Last weekend I planted some new plants in my new big pots. I tend them and water and talk to them (yes, I am a Plant-talker) and encourage them to grow tall and stretch to the sun. I can’t wait to see their blooms, am anticipating their beauty added to the other plants on my small patio.

If I had acres of land they would be filled with flowers, every kind you can think of, every sort that would be happy to grow in my garden path. I have a tiny little space outside my condo, just a strip by the front windows and a smaller one over the wall. Not too much more than maybe four to five feet wide, a very small space for someone who has Gardening Genes Roaring inside her to “go, plant something, it is spring–cultivate!!”

So, I just get more pots, rescue more from the plastic store bins they are root bound in and encourage them to stretch their roots out. I have white Iceberg roses out the same window the lavender is blooming profusely right now. I have Mexican Sage over the front wall, in the midst of a volunteer fern that just will not be denied his spot by that wall. And this really weird rose bush over there that I have tried to get out at least six years running, but comes back anyway. So, I have called a truce and let him just be.

Here, in my tiny little garden, in my tiny little condo in this great big world my plants and I are happily anticipating the full flowering of spring. The finches are twittering (the real kind, not the electronic kind), the blue bird family has returned to their nest box outside in the tree and God’s creation has reminded my that this too shall pass.

I am headed out to the patio to sit on the red park bench in the sun and just be. I will let the warm sunshine bake out the “epizoodic” from my body and the beauty feed my soul.


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