I go for a walk looking for fall colors. The brilliant reds of really classic fall photos are absent here, we have yellows and browns. One small tree at least attains reddish brown, I stop to look.
Then my attitude shifts. My longing for bright red fall colors is partly an illusion. If only I could see such a scene and walk around in it, then I’d be content. But yet God has as thoroughly and wondrously made these yellows and browns. They are not any less his handiwork for being more common. These too are precious creations from his hand.
I pause at a newly mowed lawn, where I can see the tracks of the mower back and forth, merging together at the edges. Another shift. I’ve always valued the wild, the complex non-linear patterns of nature. But what is this I see really? Not complex and awesome? A mind, a soul, an image of God, has chosen to impose flatness on this patch of grass, like God in creation — ordering, dividing, setting limits. And it is an intricate dance, the person who wants a flat lawn acquiring a machine; engineers, craftsmen, retail workers all played their part to make it real and available.
