The Spectacle of Sky

Here's the world as the camera saw it just a few minutes ago outside, from our deck. The kind of proclamation doesn't repeat every day. This summer especially, there have been--as there is right now--an unending series of deeply overcast skies, even a few rumbles through all all that mess up above. Rain taps against the windows again this morning, and everything out there has no turned to a tiring gray; but for just a few moments this morning (running to get the camera is risky--it may be over in seconds) we had pure draw-dropping, breath-grabbing spectacle.

And while it doesn't take much artistry to gather the dawn through a decent lens (almost anyone can snap a picture like this, after all), When you shuffle through the files you can't help thinking that not a single one captures much more than a fragment of the beauty of the spectacle. 

I am reminded weekly, sometimes daily, of God's own universalist character, so evident even here from our deck, a psalm almost everyone knows: "The heavens declare the glory of God." To call the sky a preacher seems understatement--even sacrilege, but that's David's pitch, after all. There isn't a square foot of earth on the planet where the sermon of the sky is not heard. 

If you live some place where the sky is this broad, you probably have your favorite; but here's just  just a couple of my own, even though it's worth repeating that what's in the camera never comes close to what was preached out there, even if there was little more than an audience of one.

Just a few meditations, reminders of why tipis always faced east. 

Have a good day.