The cool of coming Fall hides in the shadows of the trees. I look out the window through the rustling leaves--today I open my journal where I have recorded grace
notes our faithful God has so generously scattered throughout the month of August to bless my
heart. Many came from His creation.
- The evening I saw dragon flies dancing high above the road at twilight. As I watched their glory dance it became a grace note, a song of God’s glory.
- The sweet twitter of a solitary bird hidden in the bushes announcing the arrival of autumn and a multitude of red winged blackbirds soon to gather in the cottonwood trees.
- Just last night I heard the call of geese flying low over our house. They turned in the direction of the beaver ponds deep in the wood and I suspected they already knew it to be a safe place to settle for the night.
Thinking about God’s wonderful creation brought back the time a skunk
came to live under the woodshed we had converted into a bedroom and office where I did my writing. Bud and I named
him Herman and he soon became my special friend.
Herman grew so familiar with us, sometimes in the late evening when I fed our black and white cats on the back porch he joined them. Imagine my surprise when I stepped on Herman’s bushy tail. I screamed, but he didn’t seem to mind. We didn’t see him often in the daytime, although sometimes I met Herman at the steps---him coming out, me going in.
One hot summer night I couldn’t sleep, so I made up an old army cot in the yard nearby. Sometime in the night I felt a soft touch like a kiss on my hand. I opened my eyes and there was Herman. Once again he touched my hand with his nose. It was a gentleman’s kiss and I would remember it forever.
Herman grew so familiar with us, sometimes in the late evening when I fed our black and white cats on the back porch he joined them. Imagine my surprise when I stepped on Herman’s bushy tail. I screamed, but he didn’t seem to mind. We didn’t see him often in the daytime, although sometimes I met Herman at the steps---him coming out, me going in.
One hot summer night I couldn’t sleep, so I made up an old army cot in the yard nearby. Sometime in the night I felt a soft touch like a kiss on my hand. I opened my eyes and there was Herman. Once again he touched my hand with his nose. It was a gentleman’s kiss and I would remember it forever.
As time passed, troubles came
to our family as they often do, and a dull darkness settled over my
spirit. When I went to bed after one particularly trying day, my mind
wouldn’t slow down and sleep didn’t come for a long time.
I was awakened suddenly in the middle of the night. Music? A song—could it be a night bird? I had never
heard anything like it before. The sound was so
beautiful, as it drifted through the open window.
I pushed back the blankets; my bare feet touched the floor and I seemed
to hear a scratching sound outside. I leaned out the window and gasped. There Herman stood, with his tiny paws braced against the wall, his white strips
shining in the darkness. His small nose
pointed upward as he sang.
I listened in awe and amazement. Herman's song was for
me---my Father God had sent the little skunk with his incredibly beautiful song, to dispel the sadness and confusion which had gathered in my mind. God was sending me songs in the night and I
knew I would never forget that holy moment.
As I write this, I remember these words I paraphrase now, from
Psalm 4:6b-8. LORD , you have lifted up the light of Your countenance upon me.
You have put gladness in my heart, . . . I will both lie down in peace, and
sleep; For You alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.
Note: In his Book How to Understand Animal Talk,
Author Vincent Brown writes of the song of the skunk. He describes it as a sound rarely heard by
people, a “whistling in the night—something like the cooing of a dove, only
higher…going up and down the scale, at last ending in a long-drawn and soft
purr like a cat’s.”
