After a late night canning, dehydrating, and otherwise processing another bushel (my fourth this month) of freshly harvested vegetables, I needed to sleep in this morning! However, the street noise prevented that from happening. After trying for a while, I finally gave up and opened my eyes, knowing it would be irresistible.
And it was. It was downright amazing.
It was an Oh. My. God sunrise (uttered with the utmost reverence).
And to make it even more astonishing, a low-flying bald eagle flew right over me as I stood on the dock in awe of the misty, colorful landscape that surrounded me.
I am in the process of generating a list of monthly themes for a forthcoming book that has been in the works for quite some time. Here in the Northeast, September is rich in visual and spiritual themes to appreciate and contemplate, and the morning mist is certainly one of them. Though it covers a portion of the landscape, it also reveals the brilliant and otherwise largely invisible designs of spider webs. The mist fascinates me every September.
When I came back inside after experiencing the extraordinary sunrise on the river, my son was getting ready for school, and I beseeched him to stop what he’s doing and go outside NOW. I told him he needed to stand on the dock and be surrounded by the mist. Although he didn’t get caught up in my sense of urgency, he did make it outside a few minutes later. From inside the house, I watched him take it all in and felt he was possibly learning the most important lesson he’d learn all day: How to stop, tune in, and experience the grandeur of the natural world. How to fill up with the light of the sunrise. How to notice and appreciate the simple and magnificent moments of life.
A few afternoons ago, I gave him a ride to his dad’s house and noticed an adjacent field glowing pink from some kind of grass that accents the September landscape. I admired it and told my son I wanted to photograph it. He replied, saying it’s incredible in the morning, when it looks like a blanket of clouds covering the ground in the morning mist.
I returned the next morning to experience it myself. It was a dreamy and captivating sight. I was grateful that my son shared his observation with me.
And I was even more grateful that he noticed in the first place. Actually, he admitted later that his girlfriend was the one who noticed it first. But it must have made an impression on him, and that is the whole point.
It’s a blessing when someone awakens us to beauty we wouldn’t have known about or noticed otherwise. Sometimes we need others to open our eyes to the artistry and magnificence of the world around us, that we ourselves are part of. I believe that anything that enriches and inspires us helps us to water and grow the God-seed planted in us. And I have a feeling that expanding that part of our self and the universe is what it’s ultimately all about.
May you have a blessed week!
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