There’s a breeze coming in off the lake, this hot afternoon in early June. There’s blue sky smiling down at me through a lacy frame of green, green leaves. Summer is in the air, and I am, appropriately, drinking it in from the luxury of an airy vacation hammock. If the air is full of summer, the views are no less so—and so I offer you these vignettes, all visible, more or less, from my leisurely post.
A kayak,
slice of orange against the liquid lake,
dreams of sliding through fleets of miniature maroon lily pads,
suspended on the dainty ropes of their anchored stems,
beneath the deep shadowy green of overhanging trees.
A jeweled beetle climbs relentlessly upwards
as small hands tip a stick back and forth
and inquisitive eyes watch in fascination,
filling with tears when it finally loses patience
and flies away.
Relentless waves
wash a thousand coiled empty snail shells
all the miles
down the long lake.
They come to rest here,
on this smooth spit of sand suddenly rising to block their path—
and so it becomes their final resting place.
And then, chubby baby hands clutch them tightly,
turning them around and around
and over and over
in sheer enjoyment of the sensory shape.
Bare feet,
sandy,
dripping wet,
run up and down long flights of stairs,
earning the right to ice cream cones and fat slices of watermelon.
Ducks dabble along the quiet green edges.
A family of geese tests the calm waters of evening,
with a babysitter in tow, just in case.
Great clouds sail sedately by,
swimmers leaning back against the cushion of a swim trampoline,
squinting into the sunshine to watch them mesmerized,
rocked in the cradle of the waves,
laughing at a joke I’m too far away to hear.
And I leave my hammock to go join them. Because if there’s anything possibly better than celebrating our Father’s good gift of a beautiful day in the stillness of your own soul, it’s celebrating it with others.
“We were like those who dream…then our mouth was filled with laughter and our tongue with joyful shouting…The LORD has done great things for us; we are glad.” (Psalm 126:1-3)
“I will thank you forever, because you have done it. I will wait for your name, for it is good, in the presence of the godly.” (Psalm 52:9)
For all the outdoor beauty we enjoy here in Minnesota, I must admit that there is one thing we’re a little short on, and that’s the long view. I do love all our trees, but thanks to those thick forests the places where you can stand and see for miles are somewhat few and far between. Which is why, when I travel to places like North Dakota and Montana as we had the opportunity to do this last month, I can hardly get enough of those endless scenic vistas. I love to see the beautiful, raw curves and contours of the land, love to see distant hills fading away in shades of blue and purple to the horizon, love the way those vistas kindle my imagination with the possibilities of what may lie even further beyond.
And God answers with that beautiful balance of justice and mercy befitting His character: “‘He who walks righteously and speaks with sincerity…
…he will dwell on the heights, his refuge will be the impregnable rock…
…his bread will be given him, his water will be sure…
It’s like being given a pair of God-shaped binoculars. And, really, can you think of anything more breathtaking?
We were standing at the edge of a steep bank. Late afternoon sunlight slanted gold through pine branches over our heads, highlighting the moist hummocks of brilliant green moss creeping along the slanting forest floor. Below us, a river, satiated with a deluge of rapidly melting snow, rushed it’s wild, joyful way down to bigger waters.
The music of its abundant fullness reminded me of this verse:
Rejoicing Hills 