The Majesty Of His Creations

I sit on the old dead tree in my yard, the one blown over by last week's storm. The wind makes my hair dance. Above me the sky is cotton candy; wispy, pink clouds on a blue sky. The eastern horizon is the most magnificent of sunsets. I turn my face to the southwest and the sky looks of purple bruise, lightning electrifies the air in silence. My heart swells with the beauty of this world. Can my simple eye capture it all and my human's heart contain it? I look down and the wild green grass bows in the wind. At the base of a tall tree, not five feet from me, a family of small round mushrooms clusters together as if preparing for the advancing storm. I breath in deeply of the delicious air and wish I could bottle it up for days when my heart needs recharging. The once-cotton-candy sky above me has blown away and turned to thin clouds of grey-blue. Oh the power of our Savior's hand, and the majesty of His creations.