Finches are beautiful birds.
Yesterday my daugther and I were walking home -tired, hot, hungry, thristy too- when all of a sudden our way was marked by fluttering shadows. On a third story balcony were four bright yellow goldfinches gathered around a bird feeder. At the time I stopped and smiled. Listen to the song and watched the fluttering. As I walked away I forgot about the pleasant encounter.
At the moment I set to thinking about what to write today, the corner of my eye caught a movement outside. Playing in the lilac and around the birdfeeder are a number of purple finches.
I smile at their beauty and their fluttering.
I smile because I now see not only grace for today, but a resurrection of a grace from yesterday -a moment I didn't even think to call grace.
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