It's Sunday morning in the little town on the shore of the lake. Unlike the Kris Kristofferson song, what's coming down this Sunday morning is a frothy, frosty fog draping everything in a lacy, delicate shroud of white, a bleached white antimacassar, a hardonger doily.
If God has a preference among all these churches, he isn't showing it this morning. All of the churches from Christ Lutheran to Singsaas are equally adorned in this natural flocking, their dark crosses framed in a stark white against an almost white Sunday morning sky. Rivals in peace, Grace United Methodist and Trinity Lutheran, Hendricks, Minnesota
The 12-foot weathervane atop the Singsaas church points straight west. I ask a couple of old-timers, "Why a weathervane?" They don't know. It's always been there.
I guess the congregation...still meeting in the basement, still waiting for the windows after that vandalism spree...has its moral compass but needs to know which way the wind is blowing.Trinity Lutheran's cross finds a hole in the trees
As the five churches loose their flocks, they filter into Irene's Café...by Julie...which is just a few doors away from Don's Bakery...by Sandy and Craig, around the corner from Kirkvold Oil, by Jim Nuese. They pour their coffee, pore over the Menard's ad and comment on how peaceful it is this morning.
Nature's pure white is a peaceful color, especially on a Sunday morning in the little town on the lake.Hemmingsen's hedgerow dressed in white
Now the wind is coming up. The weathervane on the Singsaas steeple is swinging north. Nature's Sunday clothes are about to be shed for Monday's work clothes.Email Steve