Some mornings I look at the sky, only to calculate the chance of rain. There are mornings I do not look. Most mornings I see the textures, colors and shapes, the sea horses, pig heads, Snoopy, hearts and dragons.
Like a child that comes running, little hand clutching the paper flying behind their excited body, eyes filled with wonder, squealing "Look!" as they hand you their artwork, Natures squeals her whisper "Look!" And, like the child, the sweet Hands and Artist of Life, hope the artwork offered is worthy of the refrigerator in your eyes and heart.