Yesterday was notable for something other than the speech I attended, but I had to wait until today to have time to blog it.

When we went out for dawn patrol, it was unusually warm – nearly 50 degrees as opposed to the mid-twenties we’ve had for the past several weeks. By the time we got to the park, the entire sky was aglow like a Maxfield Parrish painting with a few scattered fluffy clouds shimmering in gold and rose. Most of our recent sunrises lacked the clouds that produce such color. Laetare indeed.

About 9:30 I left the speech. The clouds filled the sky as cold winds swirled. The temperature dropped to about freezing.

A few minutes later I saw a billowing brown wall fill the northern sky. Before long I had breached the dust cloud. Traffic slowed to a crawl as visibility dropped to under twenty feet. Gusts of wind shook the car. Prudent truckers pulled off to the side lest they face tipping. After maybe three minutes, I was through the dust cloud and the sun was shining again. The wind was still strong, but steady rather than weirdly pulsating. A minute later: horizontal snow. Before long I arrived at work for the day. Cold dry winds scoured me as I walked across the parking lot with nary a trace of snow to be seen. By quitting time, the clouds were gone and it was warm and still again. This morning we were back to the normal temperature cycle, though it was cloudy.

As changeable as the weather is here, it is steadfast when compared to this human heart or, I suppose, many others.

A short time ago, one of my blogging betters asked another if there were any unusual passage of Scripture that was particularly dear. For me the answer to that question would be this: “All flesh is grass, and all the glory thereof as the flower of the field. The grass is withered, and the flower is fallen, because the spirit of the Lord hath blown upon it. Indeed the people is grass: The grass is withered, and
the flower is fallen: but the word of our Lord endureth for ever.”
(Isaiah 40:6b-8, Douay-Rheims - Note: this is not the first time I’ve found what appear to by scanning errors in the text at drbo.org, I have redacted accordingly.)

Often we use clear blue sky as a metaphor for trouble-free times, but it is worth noting that a cloudless sunrise lacks the beauty of one that includes clouds.