You can absolutely count on it. If you want to see squadrons of brown pelicans, go to the Gulf Coast of Louisiana. Sadly, the jetty at Cameron, La., has been closed to the public, due to what I am not certain, but the road that takes you to it is now secured by a corporate guard shack complete with uniformed guard who will waggle his finger and motion you back. I know. I tried the last time I was on the Gulf Coast. But if you drive the Creole Nature Trail from Holly Beach to Cameron, you will have to…

Water. It makes our planet blue as seen from outer space. It makes life as we know it possible. Our world turns on #water. What a gift to find our world inverted in a single drop!

I call it “BJ’s Hideaway.” It’s just a short distance off of Highway 165 South, which I must travel with some regularity to get to meetings and events in central Louisiana, like tomorrow’s ordination at a church in Alexandria. An old logging road extends into the Kisatchie National Forest. I’ve never walked as far as I could, so I don’t know where or how it ends, but I do know that a good way into the forest, there’s a longleaf pine plantation. I go there in search of #harmony. Sometimes it eludes me for a time as I remember the…

What brings you to your knees? I suppose for most of us at least occasionally, it’s remorse, grief, some form of repentance for something unbecoming we have done, some unkind treatment of another, an angry outburst, failing once again to stick to our commitment to love everyone today….. One day in northwest Arkansas hiking with friends, this tiny pool of emerald water brought me to my knees. It had already been a long hike down difficult terrain–a mostly dry stream bed littered with rock of all sizes, from small gravely stuff that makes you slip and slide to boulders that…

Grace, all the way down. It’s the only possible explanation. But if, by “explanation,” you mean a clear, logical exposition of how the world works, it’s no explanation at all. “Grace” makes no sense. On the other hand, #grace is the only thing that makes sense. How else would you account for vessels of shimmery morning light tenderly cradled by winter’s leafless vines?