Sunday Worship

Today Paul and I took a drive in order to preserve some photographic evidence of the glorious beauty of autumn in the Southern Appalachains. For those of you who've never experienced a truly scenic tour of fall foliage, you really should add it to your bucket list.
When you see the photos keep in mind each shot is not the most beautiful tableau, but the most lovely shot we could procure with relatively little effort and no planning. I think our pictures represent the everyday beauty we take for granted around here. We snapped pictures in an upscale subdivision as well as on the side of Blue Ridge Parkway, and even in a city parking lot.
I can only hope to have the skill to display the peaceful play of light and shadow in the woods, or the graceful twist of nearly black skeletal limbs stretched through luminescent leaves. No matter the sophistication of the hardware or the skill of the photographer, pictures don't convey the smell of the air, the warmth of the sun, or the softness of the moist earth. Perhaps we should have stayed out longer or ventured further, but The experience nearly became overwhelming at times because we were greedy to capture and share the glory of what we saw. Inevitably the most picturesque grouping sprang up in inconvenient places, and I despair of our ability to truly capture what I saw.
Dwelling on this I was inspired with the thought that the very definition of God could be the scope of a being who actually could See and Know all of this. I imagined how sublime it would be to see each leaf with it's tracery of veins and to have watched it from bright tender shoot to crispy dried ghost. To appreciate all the deep ruby reds, glowing orange, and shining yellows as they contrast with the vibrant blue of a cloudless sky and the verdant green of still-fresh grass. To see each frolicking forest creatures and each swooping bird. To watch the trajectory of each spiraling leaf in a shower of foliage. To appreciate each lush berry, each coy little acorn, and each fetching cluster of pine cones. To love the last bright flowers and the lace kiss of the first frost.
Such an entity would be glorious. And I don't see how such a god could want for more besides our love, respect, and gratitude for such gifts. Certainly, a being who beholds the breadth of such wonder doesn't require our petty prayers or shows of worship.