I find it amazing how many amazing things there are. For example this little bird. Not so much the bird, but it's choice of a perch. Notice that the other stems of grass are pretty much straight up and down and yet the one it is resting on (and swaying, I might add) is bent at a somewhat parallel angle to the ground. Now, at first glance, and maybe even at second, it would seem like an insignificant detail, but I stopped and took this picture and as soon as I did the bird flew away and the blade of grass sprung up tall and straight as if nothing had ever happened. How does a bird flying along at a fairly healthy clip, in full grip of the wind, maneuver itself to a landing on an upward stalk of green grass? How does it know it's a strong and trustable piece of grass on not a limp, dying one? Or why not simply land on the ground? Do you suppose even the birds of the air have an inherent faith that they are being watched over?
These are the questions of the little boy left in me.
His eye is on the sparrow and I know He's watching me.