OOT N ABOOT

                "Owl in water," Tess sat up in tent sleeping bag, lips echoed mist of dream, "Owl in water..."
             
                Ted, gathering her close, comforting spoke, "Remember your favorite Inuit philosopher, Overt Avert once obviated, 'Why worry about nothing, before nothing happens'." Thus wrapped in loving arms a smiling Tess fell deep asleep, while Ted, well the Ted's mind wandered until guided to wonder, that old Inuit had paraphrased a certain Galilean of many centuries prior.  Then the Ted, he rested too.

                So it came to pass on a morning tad less than eerie, yet bit dark damp and dreary, a mist not quite in focus chilled the banks of the Sabinal, a river of hill spring beginning and underground disappearing.  And thus o'er bed of stone did gentle water a ripple, so raise riddle within the rising mist, casting veil o'er vale hidden, hidden tween hills below...

                In the mist on a log by the campfire, clad in trendy Grinn n Barrett brand khaki shorts, knee high hiking socks, boots and light green hoodies, Tess and Ted sat bit less than semi-aware of the supernatural swirling about them.  A too early risen Tess struggled to open eyes a squint, raised left eyelid only to have right lid fall closed.  With hand she vigorously ruffled already sleeping bag tussled hair, thus stimulating green peepers to almost simultaneously half open.  Her first focus spied the Ted pouring last coffee driblet into mug.

                "Don't you dare drain all the bean!"

                "For my angel," Ted poked coffee mug in Tess direction.

                Tess reached for it, missed.

                Ted steadied her hand, placed mug ear tween her fingers.

                "Eh, thanks ol' man." Tess breath stirred the mist. "Eh, I seem to be aboot a few trees shy a the meadow this morning."

                "Eh," Ted teased the recently all things Canadian obsessed Tess, "I hear the one too many Canuck wilderness specials stirrin' oot n aboot your Texas twang." He snickered.

                "Quit it!" Her Canadian accent crumbled. "At least I know how to have fun."

                "Yes you do. You are the very essence of fun my precious petite queen." Ted should a stopped there, mumbled under breath, "Aboot as much fun as a Yukon grizzly roused from hibernation."

                "What! What did you say, Theodore!"

                "I said you are precious and I love you, and I have..." Ted reached into green hoodie, retrieved tight little roll, unfurled bright red distraction, "I have a wee tee for my petite queen."

                "I may be little, but I be mighty, Ted boy, and don't you forget..." Distraction took root. "Wow, a blow me away hot red t-shirt with LOST MAPLES across the top, and below a big ol' red  maple leaf set in splotch of antique white.  Not exactly the glorious Canadian flag, but wow, thank you Teddy." Tess squirmed out of hoodie, held up arms. "Help me put it on!"

                While threading her arms and head thru t-shirt, Ted explained, "I picked it up yesterday just past the entrance at the park store." He smiled, patted himself on the back, silently thought, "That old distraction trick works purd-near every time."

                "I see that smug mug, Ted.  It's plastered all over that possum eatin' sweet tatters grin of yours. I am all too familiar with that little boy distraction ploy.  You better thank Jesus, I've a patient and forgiving heart."

                "Of patience and forgiveness," Ted scooted closer on log, "though the tree root be bitter," his warm breath teased freckled nape of neck, "the fruit be sweet." The kiss raised Tess goosebumps mid giggles.

                "Stop it, Teddy!" Tess crinkled neck. "Stop it... some more." She raised chin, exposed sweet spot.

                Ted lips barely brushed her throat when...

                Tess eyes refocused, "Hey, wait a minute. I recall somebody promising me, like, like a little bit of Canada heaven in Texas."

                Ted tried moving closer.

                "Uh-uh, so where is it? Where is this spectacular picturesque scenic beauty that you promised? And, is this fog, mist, or whatever it is; is it ever going to lift?"

                Ted stood, took Tess by the hand, helped her up, re-donned her in hoodie, lead her thru path a mist.

                "Uh," the mist coiled round Tess ankles, "are you sure about this?" The toe of her boot met solid rock.

                "Seems the steps up the cliff have found us." Ted breath puffed smoke. "Hang on to the back of my belt with one hand and the railing with the other. Hewn out of rock the steps to near heaven are sure, but by mist made wet and slippery."

                "Steps to near heaven?" Tess eyes widened. "Eh, aboot that, uh, I know that I've been aboot a whole whack a ice queen, to use a Canuckism," she took tentative step, "but I sure hope this cliff doesn't terminate in dead end." She snirkled at her own little joke.

                Many steps later Ted abruptly halted ascent. Tess snuggled up neath his shoulder. Ted reached out into the mist with foot, felt around, "It's flat, the top of outlook cliff no doubt. Got to be a bench up here somewhere." A few cautious steps in, "Ouch, found it." Ted set down on stone bench, guided Tess to his side, hugged her to him, commenced rubbing shin bone.

                "Let me," Tess scooted her hand neath Ted paw, "Let me rub."

                "Oh, thank Jesus for my Sofie," Ted breathed relief.

                "Sofie! Oh, you mean as in Canuck slang, I am your very own unexplainably beautiful sweet woman."

                "Uh... absolutely," Ted gave teasing wink.

                "Eh, does the fact that I can almost see that wink mean the mist is aboot to..."

                And the mist of veil o'er vale, like a scroll rolled away...

                Tess and Ted arose, stood in awe of a morning not eerie, not a bit cold, damp and dreary; stood in focus of the Sabinal, a river of hill spring beginning and underground disappearing, now a river from stone tomb arising. And thus o'er bed of rock did gentle water ripple, as cedar green and maple red set fire forgiving waters.

                 "Owl in water..." Tess lips a smile did re-utter, "Owl in water..."

                As in river reflection the owl a flight swept thru the rose colored sky, across the morning sun, and so echoed praises thru the once Lost Maples hills, "Who, who-who... Who, who-who..."

                And side by side Tess and Ted answered in sweet by and by, "In joy and in peace, so do the hills sing and the trees clap their hands to the glory of our risen Lord and Savior... Jesus..."


Epilogue:

Lost Maples is an actual Texas State Park, where the red cedar, cypress and red maple grow. Lost Maples is one of the few remaining areas in the state where the red maple thrives.

Sabinal is derived from the word sabina, meaning juniper tree. The red cedar is an evergreen juniper with reddish bark. The heart of the red cedar is aromatic wood the color of a rose.

The hills sing, the trees clap their hands:  Isaiah 55:12 KJV (vs 6 thru 11 beautifully explain vs 12)

The owl & praises: Genesis 1:21 KJV & all Psalm 148 NLT

Who Jesus is and what he says about worry: John 1:1-4&14 KJV; John 3:16 KJV; Matthew 6:25-34 KJV

Jesus gives living water eternal: John 4:1 through 42 (reread verses 10 through 14)   KJV 

PawPaw loves you...  Jesus loves you more...