My Nature walk along the River

Every couple weeks or so I like to walk along the Mississippi River on this trail. In this photo I am looking back from where I just walked.

Usually the trail is rugged, but here the way is flat and easier walking. But as you can see, you have to watch where you are going or you will tumble into the river. I walked along this path for a while, and then when the trail ended I took a sharp right up to another broader trail.

Here we are on the broader trail, or it is more like a road. In fact, I often see workers drive on this road.

Looking to the left, you see the river again through this jungle of trees.

Here is a rare sight this early in the spring. So lovely! All of these beautiful sights are God’s special gifts for me to enjoy.

Here the trail winds around these trees; and though the way is darker, I know that God is still with me. “Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for He is with me.”

Here the path is quite narrow. “Narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.”

The path suddenly turns green. It’s beautiful here. “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.”


Up the path and to the left I viewed this red-winged black bird in the swamp.

I have often wondered why this clump of grass always grows taller in this area. Perhaps there is something or somebody buried there that makes the ground more fertile. This reminds me of where we used to live in Delano, Minnesota. We had this corn field and there were places where the corn would grow almost twice as tall as the other corn. One fall day my dad decided that before plowing he would burn the field because he had let it get so overgrown with weeds. Well, it happened that after the weeds had burned off, the ground just kept burning and burning. We discovered that the earth was full of peat soil, and peat burns. So all you farmers, before you decide to burn your field make sure you don’t have peat or you will have a mess, and the good peat will be burned up and good for nothing,

A Prisoner in My Own House

This is exactly the place I was thinking of going for a walk today. It is overlooking the Mississippi river. I took this picture a year ago today. Hopefully I will see some of the same sights.

I feel like a prisoner in my own house—apartment. I woke up this morning with the reality that I was scheduled to go to work—actually, to help a friend paint a room to be used as a church office. My pastor was sort of counting on me to help out. But I feel lousy. I hope I’m not getting the coronavirus. I’m 69 years old and ripe for the virus; old people like me are really suppose to stay home. I didn’t want to do it, but I really felt that I should—that I should text the pastor and tell him that I can’t come, that I wasn’t feeling well. So, I did, and of course he understood. A couple hours later my doctor called me and asked me not to come to my appointment tomorrow if it wasn’t an emergency. I agreed to cancel, and I also talked to her about some of my medical concerns.

Now I feel like I should just obey the President and the experts and stay home. But I’m feeling better and I don’t want too. I’m antsy. Can I really stay here in my apartment for a couple months until, as they say, this coronavirus washes out? I know I can always find things to do, like what I’m doing now, writing. But I like to get out too. I have favorite eating places, coffee shops…and I want to go there. Oh, it’s tough! I don’t think there will be anything wrong with going for a little walk outside. I need the exercise. I think I feel well enough to do that, and I won’t be around anyone…I don’t think. I will pray. I will make this day a day of prayer—for myself, for the country, and for the world.