The Black Hills of South Dakota, blessed by an abundance of spring and early summer rain, are a multitude of shades of knock-your-eyes-out green this summer. In fact the locals complained of cold rainy weather until the day we arrived, whereupon it has been “decidedly clement,” to quote Jeeves, P. G. Wodehouse’s favorite butler.
Decidedly clement indeed. I sit on the deck of the home in the picture, my cousin Dan’s place northwest of Custer, South Dakota, under clear cobalt skies—a little bit of heaven—as I write this. I’ve done my daily hike and am home alone, as Dan still practices dentistry two days a week and the wives went shopping. We’re parked in their driveway as you will notice in the picture, where the price is right and the fellowship divine. Sunday I get to preach again in Dan’s church in Custer. They heard me preach there last summer and they invited me back anyway. Dear saints!
There is so much to see and so many campgrounds in the Black Hills National Forest that there is no chance we’ll duplicate last years camping experience (aside from Dan’s driveway), even though we’ve planned another two week stay in these beautiful mountains.
We are here ahead of the big Motorcycle Rally in Sturgis this summer. The absence of a half-million motorcycles on the winding roads of these beautiful Black Hills greatly enhances the tranquility. I can’t think of another thing that could make this experience any better. God is so gracious.
