Once again it is my pleasure to have a guest blogger, my friend Larry J Thomson, share his recent essay on my blogging site. His subject, nature and glorifying God, fit in with my blogging theme of being on “the path,” and “it’s a wonderful life.” Enjoy.
By
Larry J Thomson
I woke up to the sound of a bird chirping somewhere in the giant Eucalyptus tree right outside my window. I realized I hadn’t heard the bird for a good long while. Previously, I woke to it every morning at exactly the same time, making the same sound. I wasn’t aware when it stopped being there, but this morning I wondered if the fact that the clocks just turned back one hour somehow made a difference. That the bird always came at the same moment, but my routine changed because of our manipulation of time. I lay there and listened to the bird for a while. Then the thought came to me that the bird was glorifying God, simply by being a bird, doing what birds naturally do. It was a sacred, enlightening moment. “That bird just taught me how to glorify God,” I thought. It’s so simple. Just be your natural self. Do what you love. Does the bird love hanging out in a tree, chirping? Apparently so. I also realized that by my lying there appreciating the bird, I was also glorifying God. For a moment, the bird and I were one.
I’ve always loved nature. Growing up on a farm, I was surrounded by an abundance of it every day. The farm animals were my pets, but I had to learn that some of them would someday be my breakfast or dinner. So I learned to enjoy the farm animals, but not get attached to them like I did my dog Trixie. My devotion to nature eventually led me to vegetarianism, and drives me out to the wilderness every chance I get, to hike, appreciate the sensations of sight, sound, and smell, and glorify God.
Once, I was hiking near Idyllwild, up in the mountains above Palm Springs. Supposedly, I was on a loop and if I just kept going, I would end up back where I started. But the longer I hiked, the more I wondered if I hadn’t taken a wrong turn somewhere. The hike was seeming longer than it was supposed to. But I sometimes felt that way on hikes, and the trailhead ended up being just around the next bend. Suddenly on the trail ahead of me I saw an animal jump across the path. It moved so fast that I didn’t get a real good look at it, but I swore it looked like a wolf. I know there are not supposed to be wolves this far south. But then maybe they are here and it’s just that no one has seen them. I’ve seen enough coyotes to know that it was too big for that. It wasn’t someone’s dog because as I stopped and waited, I didn’t see or hear any other people on the trail. I waited for a moment thinking, what to do? I knew turning around and going back the way I came was going to be a long hike. But I finally decided to give the animal, whatever it was, it’s space. I turned around to retrace my steps, looking back occasionally to make sure I wasn’t being followed. I hadn’t gone too far when I came to a fork I had missed earlier. As it turned out, I had ventured off the loop and was heading completely in the wrong direction. Back on the loop, I returned to the car. I paused and thanked the “wolf” for steering me in the right direction. Glorious Nature had taken care of me and prevented me from getting lost.
A while back, I was hiking in Griffith Park. I was taking a road less traveled with thick bushes lining a narrow path. Suddenly, I heard an unfamiliar sound. It was a clicking of sorts. I looked down and at my feet was a rattlesnake fixed between me and a rock. It was only a couple of feet away, and withing striking distance. It had nowhere to go and was curling and slithering back upon itself. I was wearing shorts and felt extremely vulnerable so I slowly took a step back, then another, and another until I was safely away. Then I turned and hightailed it out of there. The first thing I realized was that rattlesnakes don’t sound like they do on television. It wasn’t like shaking a baby’s rattle. It was like a clicking and hissing combination. It was creepy and it haunted me for several nights afterward. Even so, after some thought, I understood that by nature, it didn’t want to hurt me. It was letting me know it was there and would protect itself if necessary. I was smart enough to take the warning. Nature is at its most glorious when there is mutual respect.
Nature gives me so many pleasures. My favorites are the smells of daffodils and honeysuckle. They both grew on the farm, and now there are some honeysuckle bushes in the yards around my neighborhood for me to enjoy when I go for walks. I love the beauty of daisies, sunflowers and morning glories. I remember the taste of blackberries that also grew wild on the farm, and how we ate them as we picked them for Mom to make into cobbler. I delight in the feel of grass on my bare feet, a clod of dirt in my hand, and a cooling breeze on my face on a hot summer day. And as for sound; I love the silence of the Redwood forest or a pasture cloaked with snow on a winter day.
Speaking of Winter; there’s a song that goes “If I Ruled The World, Every Day Would Be The First Day Of Spring”. I once felt that way, but after years of being away from distinct seasons, I appreciate whenever I can experience them again. I love the beauty and uniqueness of each one.
And so here I Am. A unique and beautiful creature of nature, as are We All. As the bird chirps and flits about from branch to branch, so do I do what comes natural for me. And the more I Am able to be in that state of passionate, loving, natural awareness of being; the more I glorify God.
Lovely. I agree with you.