The late afternoon light streaming through our pine woods creates heavenly beams illuminating the exquisite beauty and design of each tree and shrub, each bough and needle, casting long shadows in a foretaste of the evening to come. Even in winter, this time of day never ceases to thrill me with its visual drama and invokes feelings of reverence and awe. It’s no wonder late evening and early morning are the realm of great nature photographers.
Since becoming a connection curator, I see connection everywhere. The connection between connections—in this case between Nature and God—are always affirming, each a wayfarer’s sign pointing to the existence of the other. I can’t walk out into the pine woods—be it morning, mid-day, or evening—without experiencing the presence of God. When I’m anxious or troubled, just breathing deeply the fresh, clean scent of this sacred space is calming and nurturing.
This lovely piece written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning was quoted in my devotional reading today from Celtic Daily Prayer: Prayers and Readings From the Northumbria Community
Earth is crammed with heaven,
and every common bush afire with God,
but only he who sees
takes off his shoes.
Where is your special, sacred space?
Photo credit: A pine forest in evening light by “Stocksnapp” via BigStockPhoto, my favorite source for quality stock photos
Go Wild For Wildflowers At Your Nearest State Or National Park
A few weeks ago my little grandson and I found a sunny spot in the woods behind our house. We pulled back the blanket of leaves and sticks and began to slowly and silently reshape the surface of the soft ground beneath. We made little mountains and valleys. We built winding roads from pebbles laid end to end and fences from little broken twigs. There was transplanted moss for meadows and acorn shells that became tiny huts. A bridge emerged that fell a couple of times. There were tiny little snails and earthworms and centipedes that showed up, looked around, and moved on.
We didn’t talk much. There was no plan, no reason, and when it was time to go, he looked up at me with a grin and then jumped right in the middle of our delicate little village with both feet. We both laughed and went inside for a peanut butter sandwich and some chocolate milk.
Somewhere beneath the leaves in our backyard are a few disarranged pebbles and twigs that mark the quiet little spot of our special, sacred place.
Oh, Andy, what a beautiful depiction of your time together with that precious little boy. You did indeed create a special, sacred space together, and your reflection is a wonderful reminder that it’s not always the specific place that makes it sacred but the circumstances and love that flow at any particular time in any particular place. Beautiful! Thank you so much for sharing this.