For those of us who live in the northern parts of the US, it’s been a marvelous autumn. Riding home on my bicycle when I could, I was immersed in an array of spectacular colors, watching the trees turn from green to every color in the red family—from a subdued brown to a flaming, bright red. The photo here I took on a weekend getaway to nearby Kentucky, at a state park in the eastern reaches of the state. You have to look closely to see where the water ends and the trees begin. Isn’t that cool?
I can’t help but think about life and death, about this world and the next, about the mysterious, blurry line between us and God present, about all kinds of mystery. I know I see God’s presence in such spectacular scenery, and that God shows himself to all of us in a thousand ways.
I’ve always been drawn to the soft images of impressionist art for the same reason. Life isn’t as clear-cut as many make it out to be. There are transition points, blurry lines, where we live in a kind of in-between. Like the lake and the trees I stood before, we see beauty, the reflection of beauty, and the in-between place we sometimes live, mired in the beautiful.
Nature can reveal so much to us!