A few years ago I recall being out for a bike ride on an early fall day.

The temperature was perfect, not too hot nor too cold. I soaked in the beauty of the red, brown, and gold foliage as I pedaled the rural Central Pennsylvania roads near my home.

I was about seven miles from home on a downhill run when I heard a “ping” and a few moments later, as if the first “ping” did not catch my attention, the sound an encore “ping” chimed in.

Innately, there’s something magical about a twenty-month old and the world of wonder that surrounds a child at that age.

What’s down right delightful is when that twenty-month old is my granddaughter and she repeatedly calls my name.

Recently, Jackie and I were thrilled to be on “Naomi duty” over a weekend as her parents “took five” and attended to things on the home front minus their bundle of joy.

When talking with Naomi via Face Time over the past few weeks, her word flow has gone from an isolated handful, to a trickle, and now to a steady running stream. It’s amazing to me how a few days can make such a huge difference!

Typically, when her Mama calls us she dials Jackie’s phone.

When Gammy answers the call, little Naomi is front and center on the screen. That’s when I start my silent countdown from five – “5-4-3-2-1” and the first words out of her mouth are “where Papa go?”

No matter how dismal a situation might seem to be,

With a passing glance so much can be overlooked. Deep wells full of abundant springs are untapped for a momentary taste of a much lesser dew.

An invasion took place this past weekend. The troops landed, occupied both high and low ground, engaged the natives, and have since retreated back to headquarters.

Their return convoy looked like a scene out of the Beverly Hillbillies, “come listen to a story about a man named Jed…as he loaded up the truck and moved to Beverly…Hills that is“.