Outside my window . . .

It is 8:00 a.m. in Lansing. Just beyond the pane of glass that separates me from 26 degrees of cold the world is beginning to hum. When I left the house this morning it was still dark, and yet there were a lot of people up and at it. The interstate was bumper to bumper for some reason.

I listened to Mad Dog in the Morning arguing with morning show callers about Mike Martz and his job as head coach of the Detroit Lions and who should replace Michigan coach Lloyd Carr. The quiet of my office, and the soft whooshing of the heat duct is a welcome reprieve from the hectic pace of the drive in.

As the sun peeks over the horizon it casts shadows across the field that I can see just above my computer screen. Drab, lifeless brown weeds change their hue in the morning light. They look almost golden. In the background the steam rises from the Board of Water and Light smokestacks, silhouetted by a blue sky that is punctuated with a few low-hanging clouds off in the distance. Pink when I sat down to type, the colorful sunrise palette is fading to a more sedate wintry blue and gray.

Maybe I'll see a deer or two today.

Last week a young buck scampered into the field about thirty yards from where I sit. He stopped to dine on the pumpkins my sons threw out for him to eat. I walked into the office and flipped on the light. His head shot up and he looked my way, a hunk of orange hanging from his mouth. He gnawed on his Thanksgiving snack, walked over to the salt lick for some after dinner seasoning, and then ambled toward a thicket.

Perhaps I'll see that gimpy doe again with her two young ones. She has a limp in a hind leg - probably the result of being a city dweller who dodges cars if not bullets. At least she doesn't have to worry about hunters, just how to get from food to water and back. She too stops by to nibble on the salt block. She never says "thank you," but she hangs around long enough for me to feel as though some quid pro quo has taken place.

There is a light dusting of snow on the ground. Soon I have to head back out into the bluster. I hate the cold, but the trip will be worth it. I'm headed a few miles up the road to Michigan State University, and its fields full of Hereford cows grazing on corn stubble and the leavings of this year's harvest.

All things considered, God has blessed me with a great start today.

I hope he has blessed you, too.