Yesterday my two sisters drove up from Macon to visit me in Blairsville. A round trip of 500 miles just to spend a night and a day with me in the mountains. We sat around last night reminiscing over the past eight years journey that we and our parents have made. We laughed a lot and cried a little but sharing the warmth of the fire and the interwoven experiences of siblings kept the twenty-five degree mountain night at bay.
This morning I wanted them to experience what I have for the last three mornings. We bundled up and went outside to watch the birth of a new day. The geese were taking flight, the beating of their wings splashing in the water until just their tips would touch before taking full flight and barely clearing the tree line on the far side of the lake. They flew directly into the sunrise until they rose above the silhouette of the mountains in the background.
The sun began to crest the peaks and spray it’s glorious light through the branches, Illuminating the mist with a kaleidoscope of color from the fall leaves and onto the lake below. I walked down to the water and it was then that the three of us heard it…it was the hawk. As God and my two sisters are my witness, this majestic bird landed in the top of the tallest tree by the lake.
I turned with excitement and pointed at the bird…the symbol of my fathers freedom from Parkinson’s.
My sister took these pictures this morning and when I turned around and looked at her tears were streaming down both of our faces. I don’t know what she was thinking but I know I was thinking ,” This must be what Momma and Daddy saw!! This is the Altar of God! This is His church that He built. Not of mortar and stone but of the beauty of life that He created.
I don’t care what religion you practice or if you don’t practice at all…THIS is paradise.