Remember the book, Conversations with God? In it, Neale Donald Walsch asks questions and God answers. I think I perused it, never bought it, and I have my own questions so I wasn’t incredibly interested in Neale’s dialogue. However, in the waning days of 2015, I heard the word “oracle” read in church.

November, and it is a rainy Sunday morning. Seems like our lowcountry is speckled with puddles and ponds with few avenues available for evaporation. Mosquitoes are abundant, turtles continue in their slow search for sun and high ground, and our chorus of frogs and toads is in harmony with the percussion and pelt of raindrops on my metal roof.

I have been thinking a lot about trees lately. Actually, I think about them almost daily. I love them. Pine and palm, crepe myrtle, Southern magnolia, Eastern redbud, flowering dogwood, American holly, and oaks of every kind – live, laurel, water and chestnut.