I've been noticing something these last several commutes to and from work. As I drive in, the sun is fresh & the light is new. It is at my back. The colors seem muted & almost groggy as the sun climbs. The fields are quiet... somehow. And, well, when I'm coming back, the sun is tired & wasted. It is at my back. It's as if it has worked all day making things beautiful & full of life. The trees lining the Custer fields are worn and drooping, but in the most elegant way, as if calling young dreamers to come and sit.
And then, I think: how much of this interpretation of the day & sun is clouded - nay, affected by my own perspective and feeling of groggy-worn-out-ness? It is so "in the moment." The truth is that the sun is always beaming brightly somewhere... & the trees and fields, well, the could be somewhat tired because of the sun, but couldn't it also be me projecting my own weariness? At best, it is my interpretation from inside of the timezones instead of on the sun's surface. And how often do I tell God which shot to make when I'm stuck near the side behind the 2-ball, projecting my own predicament onto the rest of the table?
Yes, these thoughts come to me as I drive. Mostly though, I am floored at the beauty & color of God's creation... the yellowing fields, reddening trees & bizarrely this year, greening grass! I saw Custer-hill alive with color against the soft blue sky and purpling clouds & my word, I must sing at this!!! & not some sappy hip-gyrating love song, but something bigger and just as alive, with feeling & praise to the One who did it all.
And then, I think: how much of this interpretation of the day & sun is clouded - nay, affected by my own perspective and feeling of groggy-worn-out-ness? It is so "in the moment." The truth is that the sun is always beaming brightly somewhere... & the trees and fields, well, the could be somewhat tired because of the sun, but couldn't it also be me projecting my own weariness? At best, it is my interpretation from inside of the timezones instead of on the sun's surface. And how often do I tell God which shot to make when I'm stuck near the side behind the 2-ball, projecting my own predicament onto the rest of the table?
Yes, these thoughts come to me as I drive. Mostly though, I am floored at the beauty & color of God's creation... the yellowing fields, reddening trees & bizarrely this year, greening grass! I saw Custer-hill alive with color against the soft blue sky and purpling clouds & my word, I must sing at this!!! & not some sappy hip-gyrating love song, but something bigger and just as alive, with feeling & praise to the One who did it all.
1 comment:
Poetic :]
I often feel somewhat the same. The colors are dampening, especially on rainy days like these past few.
Yet, fall has it's own crisp splendor.
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