Two Kinds of Beauty
It happens in autumn as well. When the trees are full color it naturally
draws our eye and attention to the treetops, even from far distances. In fact, the farther the distance the more
color that comes into view. Treetop
color begs the vista. It was years of
grouse and woodcock hunting that taught me to also pay close attention to what
was happening at ground level. The
dogwood, blackberry thorns and witch hazel put on their own color show for
those willing to get up close. Ground
cover color begs the intimate.
Today was a similar experience. Yesterday, the air was moist. It even snowed a few slushy inches just south
of here. But the clouds broke right at
sunset, and that set the stage for the temperature to drop. And all that together caused ground fog to
settle softly into low spots. The fog
then froze onto the branches of trees, so that as morning broke, it revealed a
crystalized world, covered in white as one newly baptized. Once again eyes and attention drew
upward. But as I went outside to take a
few pictures I happened to look down at some of the shrubs that were also
frosted over. The ability to examine
them at close range allowed me to see just how intricate the frost trimmed
dried down flowers and leaves. It was as
if the finest lacemakers had produced a masterpiece.
Looking up and across the back field to the distant
woods allowed me to enjoy the vastness of the beauty. Looking down at the shrubs allowed me to
enjoy what I would have to say was a different kind of beauty. Choose?
Why? This is how God works in our
lives. We can look up into an endless
night sky and wonder at His majesty.
This view is what made the angels burst into song for the shepherds to
hear. Or we can look closely as at a
newborn baby’s hand – the tiny slender fingers that already flex and grasp and
hold. This was Mary’s view that same
night as the angel choirs. It must have
made her smile; it must have made her kiss those tiny hands of the one who
holds creation.
I walked out past the big ponds to the west. The chilly night had frozen over the pond
almost completely again. It has been
alternately freezing and thawing for the last few weeks now. There was an opening in the ice along the
west shore and a couple dozen mallards bunched there. About fifty geese were on the ice. The ones who were laying down looked as if
they were settled into open water, but right next to them were two or three
others that were obviously standing.
As I passed by the woods, five juncos took flight only
to land about twenty yards down the road.
As I came too near a second time they flew down the way another twenty
yards. A third time and they flew back
into the woods. Each time they took
flight a tiny spray of frost went up from where they were perched.
As I turned for home the sun had finally climbed high
enough that the frost began melting. I
could hear a smattering of drops hitting the leaves that have fallen to the
ground. Beauty can be fleeting, all the
more reason to savor it from afar, or very near while it’s here.
His Peace <><
Deacon Dan
Comments
Post a Comment