Ice Age hyenas with their kill, a wild boar: the mammoth and horses in the background are lucky the boar came along when it did.
With two deaths in the family coming virtually back-to-back, I haven’t been quite at my best lately. Not good: because I have a book to write, and the weather has held me back considerably. I’ve written a couple of chapters of His Mercy Endureth Forever, but as of this morning, I still didn’t know where it was going. Note I said “didn’t,” not “don’t.” Because now I think I know.
So I sat outside with my cigar and asked the Lord to give me the story He wants me to tell: and He has. Like, right away. All I had to do was ask.
Now I know why He gave me that title, and why He gave me Ice Age extra-large and ferocious cave hyenas, without an Ice Age to go with them. Now I can proceed.
Thank you, Father. It’s a weird way to write, but so far it’s carried me through ten Bell Mountain books, plus two awards.
Funny things happen in this forest. The European bison, very much like our own bison, lives there now, but it used to be the last habitat of the gigantic aurochs–the wild cattle ancestral to our own, whose pictures adorn the walls of Ice Age caves. Back in the 18th century the farmers and woodsmen tried hard to save the aurochs, but it couldn’t be done.
So nobody wants this cow to get into the bisons’ gene pool, because there are not that many of them left.
Okay, there isn’t really a rhino in my yard. But if there were, it’d be this kind of rhino.
But it only looks like the Ice Age out there: snow on the ground, icicles hanging from the eaves. God has not forgotten Spring. It’ll be here by and by. All the birds around here are singing about it already, even though it was 5 Global Warming degrees out here this morning.