Speaking for Itself

New life. It's everywhere. Baby children, including our very first grand daughter born 4 days ago. Baby calves, and very soon, baby colts. The tiniest hint of green is showing now, signaling the miracle of spring renewal. Ah! Longer, brighter days and shorter snow storms.  Maybe this year my peonies will bloom before July...
Yesterday as we drove home from church, I was reminded of how much we take for granted when living and working in a natural resource environment. It’s a privilege that I wish more people could experience. There were cows and baby calves all over the hay pivots at headquarters, with mule deer all over and in between. The huge herd of elk that have been hanging around this winter, is still hanging out in the fringes of the timber and on the upper bench.

The herd of antelope that lives year round in the rough country behind our house was right near the road. I love to watch them calve, usually around the first week of June. They have the tiniest babies that can run almost as fast as their mothers. I think they hit the ground running. Another month and we’ll be watching moose in the meadows when the willows start to bud.

There was a herd of about 20 mule deer just to the north of the house, and to the east, was a little bunch of whitetail deer. I have a nice 6-point picked out for someone this fall. He's the one that destroyed my healthiest little aspen on the corner of the yard by rubbing it to shreds with his horns. He also managed to damage my tough Canadian lilac--and took the protective little fence I had around it with him. We'll probably find it this summer when we're herding cattle.

As we crossed the creek, there was a flock of Canada geese, several Sandhill cranes, and blue birds. I love blue birds. They're the first birds to come back to this high country, usually about the 3rd week in February. They are a fresh bright spot after a long winter, and best of all, they don't make messes at the house. Unlike swallows.

 Two or three times a day during the month of June we patrol the perimeter of our 3-story house with a 30-foot extendable pole with a hard brush on the end, knocking down swallow nest starts. To get the roof peak on the south side, I have to take the screen out of an upstairs window, and run the brush while hanging out the window. I can't reach it from the ground.

 Mud. Dirty gritty mud. All over the deck, And all over everything else. In spite of my intense nest crusade, I have the utmost respect for swallows. They fascinate me with their engineering skills, team work, industriousness, and persistence. We have never let them complete a nest and lay eggs, because they will return and bring friends with them. Yet they start over as fast as we knock their hard work down, and don’t give up until around the first week in July when they finally go find a bridge or barn before it gets too late to hatch eggs.

How, I wonder in amazement, can anyone who spends any time observing nature profess to believe in evolution?

Creation speaks for itself.

Because that which may be known of God is manifest in them; for God hath shewed it unto them. For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse. Rm. 1:19,20