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Ann Stout
Corn Fields but Only in the Afternoon Black birds rise up and spin and circle and soar over black fields Mostly Crows, cawing and clawing the rain-soaked stubble Dark as death, grim as the reaper, grating my ear Brown stalks overlooked in the harvest offer perches for Red- winged Blackbirds whose hopeful trill ends in a plea For spring and growth and green to return. Their brave epaulets reminders of brighter things to come. Pale winter light leaks from a fog- shrouded winter sun Too low at two o’clock to be mirrored By puddled furroughs reflecting the gray sky 
Mud is everywhere, and the scent of damp earth
Cold air nips my bare cheeks and gloved finger tips Water leaks from my eyes and nose, wind- driven by Pedaling miles in pursuit of passion This winter ride leaves much to the imagination Last fall, or the one before, I led Emma to this same island To harvest berries and wander corn- mazes. Now Andrew rides in front of me
Ranging fast and far ahead at times or slowing To catch me up or even doubling back so I can draft Past corn fields, full of promise this late winter afternoon. |
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Sally Ridgway
Photo credit to Marcus Calderon, provided by Bill Howze.
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Full Moon
East Beach, Galveston I stand at shore’s edge, waves timid over bare feet, to watch the birthing moon in its thick, theatrical silence. The moon and sun face each other across the sky. I behold the western horizon-- a band of sun-burned orange. The east, indigo blue to lift the pearl moon. And in the hush of deep twilight-- between me and the marsh, a tidepool-- the palest yellow sheen of glass, its rim of sand illumined blue. After slow time, I turn back for home. All the long way, my eyes on the lulling pulsing surf of waves scalloping ahead. Their indigo collars of foam trailing silken capes that dissolve on the shore into silver. I stop in the dark--night weighty as water, again to face the moon, its arc over sea, its rippling, glittering path leading to me. In another arc, at the horizon, a necklace of immobile yellow lights, each a ship awaiting entry at dawn, dreaming of channels and ports, beading the long chain bound at each end by the timeworn jetty in the north and in the south by the flashing neon Pleasure Pier. Now, in the darkened marsh a single firefly, its blinking spark like a single tone of white left from the afternoon swoop of two great white egrets and from the sun-bleached bellies of the gulls and the sequined silver moon-path home to this tiny skipping light. |
The Cowpen Daisy is named for the type of disturbed soil where it thrives. It sometimes covers miles of roadside with its bright yellow blooms. Also known as Golden Crownbeard and Butter Daisy, it's a DYC--damned yellow composite--of the Aster family, a large group of yellow/gold flowering plants that are hard to tell apart. Its cheery flower is a good nectar source for late season butterflies, native bees, and honey bees.
- Sourced from Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center and the Pollinator Program at The Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation |
Kathleen Cook
The picture was taken in the floodplain of the Frio River near Leakey, Texas. The butterfly is a variegated fritillary. - Kathleen 
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Forget-me-nots
They told me much, but little that I can now remember,
those strong women who worried over me as I grew.
Only random names, odd facts, sepia glimpses live
on in my mind. A chance remark, the name of a flower:
sweet-williams, pinks, bachelor buttons,
snow-on-the-mountain, cowpen daisy.
My grandmother told me of the bluebonnet’s name.
Those blue spires bloomed for the Indians, for her, for me.
Wildflowers of sere Texas prairies, of carefully tended,
sparingly watered yards. Flowers placed in mason jars.
Now I puzzle how long the knowing of names will last,
in the familiar slide of all beyond a known horizon.
A quilt handed down from my mother survived
hurricanes and carelessness, faded to softest of
yellows and pinks. Gladys, Ola, Jewel, Azilee, each
name evokes a square of memory, a bemused look,
a stooped back, an erupting laugh, a dogtrot furnished
with fern and wicker, a bequeathed cookbook, yeast rolls.
I fold the quilt with care, worry about spots so worn
that they show the thin batting. Might a granddaughter
do the same, touch with care, love what has been?
Will she look at the land, listen as her mother might
tell her, as my mother told me, that in summer’s heat,
only the dull yellow flowers are strong enough to last?
-Kathleen Cook
They told me much, but little that I can now remember,
those strong women who worried over me as I grew.
Only random names, odd facts, sepia glimpses live
on in my mind. A chance remark, the name of a flower:
sweet-williams, pinks, bachelor buttons,
snow-on-the-mountain, cowpen daisy.
My grandmother told me of the bluebonnet’s name.
Those blue spires bloomed for the Indians, for her, for me.
Wildflowers of sere Texas prairies, of carefully tended,
sparingly watered yards. Flowers placed in mason jars.
Now I puzzle how long the knowing of names will last,
in the familiar slide of all beyond a known horizon.
A quilt handed down from my mother survived
hurricanes and carelessness, faded to softest of
yellows and pinks. Gladys, Ola, Jewel, Azilee, each
name evokes a square of memory, a bemused look,
a stooped back, an erupting laugh, a dogtrot furnished
with fern and wicker, a bequeathed cookbook, yeast rolls.
I fold the quilt with care, worry about spots so worn
that they show the thin batting. Might a granddaughter
do the same, touch with care, love what has been?
Will she look at the land, listen as her mother might
tell her, as my mother told me, that in summer’s heat,
only the dull yellow flowers are strong enough to last?
-Kathleen Cook
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Sally Ridgway
Nancy Henry nominated Sally Ridgeway's "pop-up Christmas tree and card." Sally said "The frond popped up through the hedge & wanted to be a tree. So actually it’s my card & tree :)" - Beth |
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Drew McDiarmid
While I have sung in some of the audio recordings with the Covenant Choir, I truly miss singing in person with others. In my other chorus family, International Voices Houston, we worked with a company called Virtual Chorus. So every other Sunday after listening to the Covenant service I would move my computer against a white wall and record a song. You listen to the audio accompaniment in your ear, while recording just your voice. It is a leap of faith and acceptance when you sing acapella alone. You have to have faith that when 60 people's recordings all get put together it sounds like it always sounds: a chorus. We recorded a multi-language arrangement of Dona Nobis Pacem and several other songs for a virtual concert called Resilient Voices. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7r-w7klj_s&feature=youtu.be |
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Jodi Bash
When Beth sent me the hummingbird prints from Jeannette and the interesting facts about hummingbirds (see below). I remembered that I had recently created a pair of hummingbird earrings. I call them "perpetual flight." - Jodi |
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Jeannette Dixon
Recently I pulled out some of my old prints and decided to buy some new inks to inspire me to make more! - Jeannette Hummingbirds are associated with lightness, happiness, agility, endurance, playfulness and more. They can hover in place and even fly backwards, with their wings moving in a figure 8 at speeds of 80 beats per second. - Beth Braun |
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Rich Doty
This is titled “Much Ado About Nothing.” It is a 3ft long knife switch from a power plant in Wisconsin which turns on a 9 volt bulb the size of a pencil eraser at the top of the copper pole. - Rich |
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Rich Doty
Origin of Like a Fish Needs a Bicycle: The feminist leader Gloria Steinem popularized this expression as A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle. She meant that women can be happy and successful even if they don't have a man supporting them. Many people assume she was the first to use this expression. But others say it was Irina Dunn. - Bill Howze |
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Melissa Bernardoni
My garden is bringing me so much joy. Check out these beauties! The artistry is due to the beautiful bowl made by Wisconsin potter Fred Gregory who is a friend of the family. We always joke that everything looks (and tastes) better in a Fred bowl! -Melissa |
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David Lee
Whatever the special occasion (including monthly choir birthday celebrations), I make artistic and creative cakes, pies and sweets that are, first and foremost, delicious! Here are examples of gum paste flowers I made recently. - David 
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Lewis Garvin
Lewis Garvin reflects on Covenant worship services, then and now. 
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God Time
Before the service would begin, once upon a time, the choir would wait in silence with time to read the program cover, time to stare upward at heavenly morning light cast high on the white wall, a still horizontal rectangle moving with the sun. A stir outside a high window, pecan leaves and branches moving in shafts of air, a natural appearance of God. To begin the service, the organist would move in socked feet to strike a bowl with a wooden mallet, sound of a gong, sound of a gong to reverberate into the chapel recesses before Bach or Buxtehude sounded. Then would follow a layperson as worship leader behind the pulpit to continue a well-calibrated order of service designed to temper cynicism, to mark the sanctuary as a place where we reflect on empathy and mystery.. This sanctuary now captures only musical segments for a virtual service. We savor still shots, the latest the storied organ, its small mirror reflecting the dais and the high white wall. Met on my computer not by reliquary housing, but by rectangular embedded videos, I click on each, one by one, to witness an element of ritual, segmented, sequestered, parceled out in increments of seven, twelve, sixteen minutes. The distorted sounds of the Zoomed piano prelude and of the pre-pandemic choir remind me of the former full-throttled organ and the clarity of disciplined assembled voices. The spoken segments have better sound, the usual quality of preparation, insight for confession, our shared foibles, blindness, neglect. Our minister's screened proclamation cannot duplicate her delivery in our presence on the dais, but her low voiced modulations give emotional presence to our sacred stories rescued from their literal meanings, recast in mythical terms. After the benediction and postlude, we cannot say goodbye to one another as we file out, cannot somehow intimate to the presenters how moving they were. Nor can we exit as usual either onto the labyrinth and grassy street side or onto the raised vegetable beds and color garden where bees land and take off, making flowers bob up and down, the kind of spaces absent to us in our rooms as we bend over our devices. |
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Nick & Laura
The boys finally got to eat at a restaurant tonight after five months. Mom and Dad's Diner opened for one night only. This restaurant offered a menu of favorites prepared from scratch and served with love. - Laura
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Owen & Grayson S.
When one restaurant closes another is sure to take its place. Look what was waiting for us this evening: Owen and Grayson's Yum Yum Eats!! - Laura
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Nancy Henry
The inspiration for the murals in the Pre-K classroom came from several I found on Pinterest and collaborating with my sister, Kathy. She came for a visit and we painted 3 of the 4 days she was here. We painted the whole room and then I used acrylic paints and paint pens. The only part that isn’t complete is the image of our sanctuary building. A cheerful room will welcome our little ones when we gather again. - Nancy 
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Alaia G.
Alaia is a talented artist and shared with us her YouTube channel of her animated drawings. They are incredible! This is just one example, but you can search for Doom Animations for more! These drawing frequently serve as her backdrop during Zoom meetings too :) - Jodi |
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Sebastian C.
Sebastian, like many of us, is a BIG fan of Star Wars and all things involving spaceships. He shared with us his YouTube video of amazing lego creations! This one is from The Mandalorian. - Jodi |
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Nora B.
Nora loves writing; another great way to get creative in these COVID times. She and a school friend write together on Google Docs. Their favorite topic: Dragons. Side note: we discussed the existence of dragons in the Bible last kids corner, in case you wonder what we talk about. Alaia was even able to show us a drawing from Revelation. Enjoy Nora's first few chapters of her book on her Story Daze blog: https://storydaze.blogspot.com/2020/06/chapter-one-enjoy.html - Jodi |
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Longoria Family
The kids and I planted baby succulents last week. I also made 2 planters from children’s chairs that a neighbor put out for heavy trash. They were missing the seats. The planters turned out well. If I had paint, that would have been a nice touch. But I was trying to spend nothing, so they are naked :) - Brooke 
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Nancy Preston
Cactus syrup made from "tuna" fruit of prickly pear nopal cactus. Pick these cautiously, then proceed to the beautiful, delicious product! - Nancy 
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Linda Day
Hard up for projects so I decided to refinish a 30 year old teak toilet seat. I also had the brass fittings polished and lacquered. I now have a furniture quality Throne on which to contemplate my the world as we know it. - Linda |
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Dody Carter
Here are some of Dody’s bowls she sold in yard and on the porch for the Empty Bowls Project. Their yearly sale was canceled because of Covid so she sold them in the neighbor’s yard and our porch. She had made 100 bowls and sold 88 of them. All proceeds went to the Houston Food Bank. She sold enough to provide over six thousand meals. - Robert |
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Stephanie Warner
I love the Blue Tiger and its project. I’m submitting the attached image of a drawing: Longing Strong, 2019, 12”x12”, ink and watercolor on milled paper. The drawing belongs to a developing group of drawings that will eventually create story books, perhaps coloring books, text of some form may, or may not, be included — all inchoate except for the 13 titles. This project is a lovely way to share creative sparks! Thanks to all involved. In gratitude, Stephanie Warner |
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Robert Carter
When I got out of the hospital Dody said I needed something to keep my hands busy since I was still pretty confined to bed so she pulled out my knitting 🧶 needles and yarn that I have not touched in years. Nothing fancy. Just some dish cloths for washing dishes. Since I am the dishwasher in our house (for the last 49 years) I will use them. I may be slow but I am enjoying knitting again. - Robert |
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Jeannette Dixon
Jeannette's series of quirky and colorful tigers made from toilet paper cores and scrap fabric is the inspiration for an idea. A day or two before she sent me the photo, I was fed up, discouraged, tired, overwhelmed by the news etc. when the passage from Phillipans popped into my head:
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things. Jeannette is finding creative expression in her crafts. It's pure, and it's lovely; an antidote to all that's so challenging now. I see signs of Covenant Creatives scattered on our website and Facebook--cooking, writing, making, painting--but how about pulling it together in one place? - Beth Braun |
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Rich Doty
Look at this fierce little creature, made from scraps of cardboard, three twist ties, and a bread bag clip. Now, when I open our kitchen junk drawer I ask myself "What could Rich Doty make from this stuff?" What a delight!
- Bill Howze |
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Pamela Jones
Pamela Jones and I were driving down the road and saw a group of yard art pieces and immediately doubled back and took pictures. Pamela has beaten me to the punch and made the beautiful piece below. It is made out of vases and other pieces of glass that were all purchased at resale and thrift shops. I think she did a stellar job.
- Nancy Henry
Pamela Jones and I were driving down the road and saw a group of yard art pieces and immediately doubled back and took pictures. Pamela has beaten me to the punch and made the beautiful piece below. It is made out of vases and other pieces of glass that were all purchased at resale and thrift shops. I think she did a stellar job.
- Nancy Henry
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Linda Day
Here's my latest project, a remote caddy made from scraps left over from reupholstering the sofa. Finally I have room on that table for a pile of magazines, a couple of dog trimming tools, a cup of coffee, and a shoe I picked up off the floor to keep the dog from chewing on it - Linda |
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Jodi Bash
In the early days of the pandemic I was at quite a loss for what to do with myself. No driving to the office, no driving a kid to school, no driving to...anything! So drive time became crochet time. I made these seven colorful and varied shawls for Covenant.
Inspired by other churches I'd seen that would have a basket of wraps outside the sanctuary, I figured this would be a good use of my extra energy and time. I may even make more before we get to go back. I love the colors, no two are the same. I hope they bring warmth and smiles when we are able to meet in person again.
- Jodi
In the early days of the pandemic I was at quite a loss for what to do with myself. No driving to the office, no driving a kid to school, no driving to...anything! So drive time became crochet time. I made these seven colorful and varied shawls for Covenant.
Inspired by other churches I'd seen that would have a basket of wraps outside the sanctuary, I figured this would be a good use of my extra energy and time. I may even make more before we get to go back. I love the colors, no two are the same. I hope they bring warmth and smiles when we are able to meet in person again.
- Jodi
