Wet Snow

As I made my way around town this morning, I marveled with the kids at the spectacle of the winter wonderland we passed through. The limbs all around us, bending low, to display their burden in beautiful form. Trees bowed to the Creator, silent and still, in reverence to the One that giveth and taketh away. The fresh coat of white, wet snow, with barely a hint of breeze, made for a postcard setting around every turn. Yesterday’s imperfections redeemed, covered anew, with barely a trace. And isn’t it fitting that we sit to enjoy, to ponder, and to draw parallels, from this place. Nature has it’s darkness as do we all, still there are moments, when perfection draws near. If you listen in silence and look past the obstacles we all erect over time, I am refreshed and can see hope from right here.

This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it. ~ Psalm 118:24

And if the Lord sees fit to make the rest of the week, then too will I continue my thanks for the blessing and the promise in it.

 

 

 

 

Advertisement

Sun in the Corner

The sun was setting on the distant horizon, with splendor that captured everyone’s eyes. 

But I noticed what it shone on, and noticing it’s beauty was truly my prize.

From the shadows I captured this corner of a pasture all lit by the setting sun. (C) 1inawesomewonder 2016.

Sunset in the Land of Lincoln

Where Words Take Me

Keep close to Nature’s heart… and break clear away, once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean. – John Muir quoted by Samuel Hall Young in Alaska Days with John Muir (1915) chapter 7
“God never made an ugly landscape. All that the sun shines on is beautiful, so long as it is wild.” ~ John Muir
John Muir is on my list of people I would like to have spent time with. Perhaps the only thing more beautiful than his energetic, artistically descriptive words were the scenes he gazed upon. I long for the times I can wander the hills, mountains, and streams to “wash my spirit clean”, and I do.

A view of Eldorado National Forest from Route 50

Too Much Here For One To See

I look to the sky and the blazing sun

Feeling like I’ve arrived, the only one

 

This place before me feels like home?

Should I never leave here, no longer roam?

 

God must have painted here, these very tones

Man has not touched this place nary a stone

 

Sitting, I gaze upon this beautiful place

Content, I wish to stay, leave the race

 

How is it that a site can affect me so?

I couldn’t retreat now if I wanted to go

 

I wonder aloud, here am I intended to be?

Perfect; sky, water, rock, quiet and me?

 

Feeling privileged as if near the Creator

My senses are whet like never before

 

There’s an urgency I feel but it’s odd

Like I can wait here looking, to see God

 

Wait I do, frozen really on this grassy lea

In time, I notice all, He is revealed to me

 

With sweeping glance again and again

I see there’s more than when I began

 

How could this be here, in its entirety?

Bigger, better, more efficient than any city

 

Hours seem to cram themselves into seconds

Astutely aware I long for time at this expanse

 

I came in by myself but do not feel alone

Arising, I wish to visit with each stone

 

All at once I wish to share this place

While wanting here, to witness just my face

 

I work to move among the vast scenery

Noting that maybe mans not meant entry

 

Time nor distance measure my rate

Only light or the lack of it track my fate

 

Once upon the floor of this earthly dimple

Closer inspect confirms my race, so simple

 

The beauty is all at once overwhelming

But still, nothing I’ve known more calming

 

Wandering among the divine, peace is mine

Hoping this space is the same for all time

 

The symmetry of societal plans exists away,

Away from this pastoral valley further today

 

Time is still, so am I, as it should be

For there’s too much here for one to see

 

Only the land prevents me from deliberating

Tranquil, I visit, the sound of my heart pulsating

 

Looking up I see water falling freely down

I feel no sound; don’t know where I’m bound

 

The flow disappears on the distant horizon

I move to the spot I keep my eyes on

 

Asking I wonder what I came here to see

It seems in this freedom I am finding me

 

The air is cooler the water again I spy

Calm at the base after the traverse so high

 

This cool spot wasn’t visible a while back

How long I enjoy it, I’ve simply lost track

 

Were there limits on the time I should spend?

It’s been night once since and I see no end

 

Then I wonder what pieces of this site

Will witness the sun setting tonight

 

I can’t guess the distance, or the time

Any checks vanish amid this nature sublime

 

Only the natural around including all sound

This freedom is true, the definition I’ve found

 

Waves of orange and red light another day’s end

In awe, man’s place I figure as God would intend

 

I close my eyes this time in hopes of a dream

Recounting this heavenly place aside a stream

 

This man, in awesome wonder, stops by free

Wishing all could encounter such majesty

What do I see?

It’s worth at least a thousand words. Insert your own 1,000 words. Or, take in the pure innocence of our children and give clear direction to what their eyes see. Their eyes do see. Make sure it’s something worthy of their eyes seeing.

Theodore Jamison Beal in color. 2 years old. An hour with dad and twin sister at the airport watching planes, hearing noises, and just having fun.

Theodore Jamison Beal in black and white. Ageless eyes, in my opinion.

Don’t forget to check and see how it all looks from my young eyes.

Look into my eyes, you can see what I see.