Sunrise in the Black Hills of South Dakota

 I'm thinking of my Dad today and how much he loved to be outside.  He worked outside in all weather, and loved to camp, hunt, fish, and taught all of us to appreciate nature and be good stewards of the beauty around us.  Whether it was creating whistles for all the kids at a campground, hunting for diamond willow in ditches, or bringing Mother a huge bouquet of lilacs from the wild bushes in the country he reveled in all the glories of nature.  I think of him every time I hear this hymn.  I miss you, Dad.

        This is my Father's world, 
 and to my listening ears 
 all nature sings, and round me rings 
 the music of the spheres.  
 This is my Father's world:  
 I rest me in the thought 
 of rocks and trees, of skies and seas; 
 his hand the wonders wrought.

        This is my Father's world, 
 the birds their carols raise, 
 the morning light, the lily white, 
 declare their maker's praise.  
 This is my Father's world:  
 he shines in all that's fair; 
 in the rustling grass I hear him pass; 
 he speaks to me everywhere.