A patch of lawn contains enough wonders to amaze nearly anyone.
Take a closer look.
Dark green blades with whitish withered tips were cut maybe a day or two ago. The younger ones maintain their pristine ends, and with their youthful beauty glisten in the sun. The first leaves of the season begin to litter the ground: first one flutters to rest upon the grass, then another, and two more, and there they peacefully rest: little flecks of earth and gold upon a bed of life.
Go deeper.
Dirt mingles with the stalks of last summer's finest green, now become earth's finest brown. Little droplets of water cast their moist blessings upon the roots of of the favored, and the white beginnings of stalks reach ever further down, where it would be an invasion of ground's privacy to go further. Beyond, I am sure there lie dark secrets: mud, clay, sand, rock.
Look up.
Light.
Sun.
How wondrous is it to behold, and in spite of all the intricacies of earth, which is made of many things, how much glorious is it, just one? See the way it bestows its gift upon the world. Light. Warmth. Happiness. Hope.
See the way it plays on the trees. On this leaf, a glimmer, on that, a shadow, on this, a soft glow, on that, a deep green. Such is life. But beyond them all, the sun is still there.
Still hopeful.
Still loving.
It's amazing what you can see in an hour-long lunch.
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