Counting on a Miracle

Day Sixty Nine

There are many stories in the Bible about things that are lost. There's the story of the Good Shepherd and the lost sheep. There's the one about a lost key. And the prodigal son was probably lost in some way. Moses and the Israelites were lost in the desert for forty years. My story is the story about the lost keys.

A couple of months ago I lost my keys on a hike behind the St. Francis of Assisi Church in La Quinta. Today I went--again--to look for them. Again, I came up with nothing. But don't worry, I'm not a quitter. I will try again.

There's this cool overhanging rock in the back of the church near where I go up the hill. I've always wanted to have a huge boulder in my backyard. I think it would be better than a jungle gym.

Looks like this cross got a new paint job. I keep hoping someone will find my keys and lay them by one of these crosses on the hill. Not today, though.

The climb is a lot of steep and loose rocks. I am extra careful and watch every step. With the great weather I'm also wary of snakes. I don't want to put my hand on a rattler.

There are a lot of flowers on the hillside. Beside the usual Brittlebush are these Rock Daisies.

There are also tons of these Notch-Leafed Phacelias.

How come I can find a rusty old can from 1965 but no keys?

I hate coming down this steep dirt section near the top. It's tempting to want to slide down it on your butt. However, I don't scoot on my butt like a dog with worms. I may go down on my head sometimes but on my butt, never.

There is a terrific view from up here. It looks like lots of people are enjoying tennis at the Indian Wells Tennis Garden. That would bore me to tears but I'm glad they're here. We can use the business.

There's also a nice view of still snow covered Toro Peak.

After my climb I go to the church to see if someone has turned my keys in to lost and found. There is a time to search and a time to give up as lost, Ecclesiastes says. The time for giving up as lost hasn't come yet, but it's close. Real close.