Over snow-capped hills.
Birds singing in the leafless woodland,
Jackdaws chattering overhead,
And the goldfinch piping its territorial warning.
The shimmering surface of the river in the sunlight,
The sound of the beck tumbling down the ravine,
And the shouts of children in the school playground,
Momentarily free from their winter fetters.
And, finally, the plaintive curlew crying over the moor,
dyed gold by the setting sun.
Thank you Lord for sharing your handiwork with me!
Worship the LORD with gladness; come before Him with joyful songs.
Know that the LORD is God. It is He who made us, and we are His;
we are His people, the sheep of His pasture.
Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise;
give thanks to Him and praise His name.
For the LORD is good and His love endures forever;
His faithfulness continues through all generations.
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