September 22, 2010

Autumn in New York

Don't you just love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address.  -You've Got Mail

Earlier this week I passed one of the first patches of red, a tiny scarlet lady in a sea of green, -high up, one among a thousand trees on my street.

It made me happy- seeing that patch of red. It was so beautiful. And as I drove on past it I found myself wondering: how many other people will see that same patch of red? Was it just for me? A gift?

How many people will drive past countless wonders this fall and how many beauties will never be noticed?

Who notices the tartan tree alone in a forest? Who will see the showers of gold the wind brushes to the ground at sunset? Nobody but God.

I was reminded of my pastor talking about how God created the sea and the Leviathan "to sport in it." [Psalm 104:26]  The whales- out at sea- playing- nobody watching- because God delights in them doing so.

And as I sat there and realized there were unspeakable wonders happening all around that nobody would ever see- but that they happened anyway because God delights in them- I felt a happy sort of kinship and gained understanding of my Father- the creator, the brilliant artist.

I think God must love New York in the fall, too. His love is contagious.


  1. I am so intrigued by this thought now, of things of beauty that a person will never see. And if it weren't for the Creator to be glorified just in existing, they'd be so wasted! I, oh, this is an interesting new jewel to ponder. :)

  2. Hmmm...I always thought that what was never observed in a way never existed. (Or if Copenhagen has it's way, never exists at all)

    But after reading this musing, I think you're right--God sees it, created it, and it still points toward Him as Lord. Fascinating!

  3. But of course. New York in the Fall is one of God's favorite places. :)

  4. Aunt Jessaline and I used to drive to Armonk Tennis where I was working, many, many times, down 684 to the Armonk exit. toward the end of August we noticed this one maple on the center divider across from the rest stop had begun to turn red and orange already. it was always a little sad, knowing summer was on the way out, but also reassuring to see it year after year. by the time the other trees had caught up and were ablaze in golds and firey reds, that maple had already lost most of its leaves.

    I passed that tree about a week ago, driving solo, and was reminded again of how little time we are given to experience this incredible adventure.