Woodland Ballet

It is deliciously cool, and I am tucked under the fleece blanket on the deck, watching the trees dancing to the music of my Pandora station (Katherine Jenkins, with a touch of Jackie Evancho, Andrea Boceelli, and Celtic Woman). Evergreen and deciduous, large and small, close and distant, the trees move with their own form and speed, yet in unity under the direction of their Conductor.  The light plays with the shadows at different levels of the hillside, as the sun moves toward its setting.

I run to get my iPad and try to capture the breath-taking performance before me. I want to share it. But my camera can’t capture its glory. Not even remotely.  I adjust the angle for the light, switch positions, but no; this amazing concert cannot be recorded.  Some things cannot be shared, no matter how much we want to. We want to run tell someone else to run outside and watch, but by the time they do, they’ll miss it. And some are halfway round the world. There’s nothing for it but to rejoice in its spectacular beauty and applaud at the finish.  To say, “Well done, Lord!  If I’m the only one who saw this performance, I want You to know I am in awe of Your creativity, Your lavish display for an audience of one. Bravo! Bravissimo! Will there be an encore tomorrow? Yet I know You rarely repeat Yourself.  With You, there’s always something new in the offing. I can’t wait.