And Ladybugs?

For all the mysteries, engines, instruments, wherewith the world is filled, which we are able to frame and use to thy glory.

For all the trades, variety of operations, cities, temples, streets, bridges, mariner's compass, admirable picture, sculpture, writing, printing, songs and music; wherewith the world is beautified and adorned.
       Much more for the regent life,
               And power of perception,
                      Which rules within.
       That secret depth of fathomless consideration
               That receives the information
                      Of all our senses,
       That makes our centre equal to the heavens,
               And comprehendeth in itself the magnitude of the world;
                      The involv’d mysteries
                              Of our common sense;
                      The inaccessible secret
                              Of perceptive fancy;
                      The repository and treasury
                              Of things that are past;
                      The presentation of things to come;
                              Thy name be glorified
                              For evermore.

                              O miracle
                                     Of divine goodness!
                      O fire! O flame of zeal, and love, and joy!
               Ev’n for our earthly bodies, hast thou created all things.
                                                 { visible
               All things    { material
                                                 { sensible


"Ladybird, Ladybird, fly away home"

I woke to a perfect morning. For the first time in quite a few days the night temps had stayed in the 40s, and today -- high of 71, or better. (Better, as it turned out. I’m sitting outside right now enjoying a breezy 74.) The light and heat of the sun streamed into my bedroom as I woke. Stretching, savoring warmth on my skin, I opened my eyes to the morning, gazing toward the window seeing -- Ladybugs? Ladybugs filled the top half of my window, crawling over glass and curtain. The swarmed around the wall beside the window, and over the ceiling. Twenty, maybe thirty small, round, black and orange bugs, greeting the morning sun. Just like me. Unfortunately.

I have always been a fan of ladybugs. Even when I was really little and creeped out by almost anything that had more than four legs or moved unpredictably. Still, I was a farm girl, with one of those obnoxious older brothers who wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone, and never let me forget it. So I faked it, accepting spiders, frogs, crawdads and an innumerable parade of crawling, jumping, bizarre creatures.  I don’t know if I ever fooled anyone -- my brother, I was sure, saw through me. Fortunately I didn’t have to fake it when it came to ladybugs. Easily identifiable, ladybugs seldom flew around you trying to get into you face or hair. They didn’t have long appendages sticking out in odd places, and they never, never jumped out of nowhere into your mouth. You may laugh, but we had three to four inch long grasshoppers. I kid you not. Some of them were probably longer, and they weren’t skinny little guys, but husky, well equipped with thighs that could fling them from a weed a yard or more away directly into you face or hair. And they were everywhere, leaping on me from all directions, clinging to my clothes and skin. Taking the nightly scraps to the compost heap was my own personal nightmare. I understood why locusts were a Biblical plague, even if they hadn’t eat anything.