The dead squirrel slowly blanketed with snow.
The bald eagle settling on a pine tree, then lifting off when it noticed us noticing.
A good thing sustained for a period of time can become a bad thing.
But what if all things are only neutral?
Like angels?
The fence gate swings this way and that.
The little baby's toes were like green peas and he smiled a little when we tickled them.
The car that won't start but only bark in the cold.
I asked God for a message and he sent an eagle, ha ha.
Prayer is itself a distraction.
Buttercups.
Who tends to the Gods if not us?
The tractor growled as it bumped along between frozen ruts.
Who tends to God if not you and me?
A song will do.
Some students want to be there and some do not.
All things are inherently meaningless, thus comforting.
Liar smiles.
The road turned and we pulled over to watch the eagle who, when he lifted back into the sky, tossed a bit of snow our way.
No, I will not rewrite.
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