A “through the bible” devotion from Job 38 and following.
When God finally shows up to answer Job, he launches into a series of questions about the creation. Were you there at creation? Do you know how it works? Do you know where light comes from? How about rain and snow? Or the constellations? The animal kingdom?
From mountain goats and wild donkeys to ostrich and horses and hawks, the creation is filled with wonders and marvels of nature. It’s all hard to explain and it’s hard to figure out, but it all works and it’s amazing. Then there’s the Behemoth (a hippo?) and Leviathan (alligator or dinosaur?) Pretty amazing, huh?
Life…the world…creation…is hard to figure out. It’s crazy, unpredictable, breathtaking. Figure it out? Probably not.
On our morning walk this morning, the dogs caught a whiff of this possum out in a neighbor’s front yard. For a moment, I thought he was dead. Then I remembered that possums “play possum,” or pretend to be dead when threatened. I thought they were nocturnal. I can’t remember the last time I saw one in the day time.
So I did some research. Opossums can be out day or night foraging for food. And they don’t just pretend to be dead. Apparently, they faint when threatened and express an unpleasant odor so that a predator will leave them alone.
My friend Phil called them “soft shell armadillos.” He was not a fan. But it was armadillos, not possum, that was digging up his yard.
Opossums are immune to venom and are rabies resistant. They are omnivores, and will eat a lot of the snails, slugs, beetles, and ticks found in gardens.
Fourteen years ago, I wrote about going to see the manatees at Blue Spring State Park in Orange City, Florida. On that January day, I thought 299 manatees were a lot. We went to see them again today, and the ranger station tote board announced a count of 677. Cold water, cool air, and overcast skies make for great manatee viewing. By the time we got there in the late morning, it wasn’t as cold as the last few days, and some of the manatees had already begun their slow float back to the St. John’s river.
A healthy crowd of locals and tourists came to see the manatees today. The popularity of manatees is an interesting phenomena. They aren’t much to look at. They don’t do anything. They just float around, coming up for air once in a while. Yet we paused at four or five viewing platforms to watch these big gray blobs float by.
Manatees have state and federal protection. According to the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission website, “It is illegal to feed, harass, harm, pursue, hunt, shoot, wound, kill, annoy, or molest manatees.”
Several organizations allow you to adopt a manatee. If you do, carefully maintained scar records enable you to pick out your manatee among all the others in the spring.
According to signs at the state park, manatees have no natural predators other than people. Boat propellers and trash are enough of a threat to earn them a spot on endangered species lists and have their own awareness month (November).
Favorite zoo animal? Typical answers include elephant, lion or tiger, and the giraffes. But when the manatees show up at the spring, we drop everything to go and see them. Their natural charisma makes them irresistible.
In between sessions at workshop yesterday, I was walking by a wall of windows and saw this guy staring at me through from the other side of the window, just foot away. I stood really still and he stood really still until I got a few nice pictures and he slowly wandered off.
He looked a bit different than the usual herons I’ve seen in the area. Today I went to allaboutbirds.org and used their handy identification guide. With just a few clicks indicating location, size and color, “Sand Hill Crane” popped up. Bingo! He (assuming this was a “he”) was probably wintering in Volusia County. His slow, graceful gait was mesmerizing. I wish I could have seen him fly. His wingspan would have been magnificent. I loved watching his backward-bending knees and the way his toes splayed out each time he took a step.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he was surprised to find a church and parking lot in the place that was remote and wooded the last time he was here. He may have been thinking the same thing about me. A year ago this church wasn’t here, either. Natural wetlands are succumbing to relentless development in this part of Florida.
Waite for it... 