Saturday, October 14, 2006

Autumn sunlight on hardwood trees



While getting a load of firewood, I was struck by the pattern of light and leaves, a neat perspective from inside the trees. It is a dappled pattern of light and shadows, trees and leaves, soaring up to the blue sky beyond, with its floating white clouds. A picture can't capture the actual presence, of course, but it's not bad, either! :-)

7 comments:

theladyworered said...

I miss walking in the autumn trees. don't have many here.

Patrick O'Hannigan said...

"Not bad," you say of the photo, to which I say "Balderdash! It's quite good."

Loy Mershimer said...

Thanks, Patrick! I'll take that dash of balderdash, and smile, lol. :-)

And LWR: OK may not have hardwood forests, but it does have an autumn charm -- one just has to look in the right places, lol.

theladyworered said...

I know. I absolutely love OK, but sometimes I miss the IN woods from my childhood.

Allen Patterson said...

Thanks Loy for this "window" into a glorious grace. I think God has blessed you with the ability to bring those windows to us both in word and picture. These words by George Herbert are appropriate.

"Lord, how can man preach thy eternal word?
He is a brittle, crazy glass,
Yet in thy temple thou dost him afford
This glorious and transcendent place,
To be a window through thy grace."

Loy Mershimer said...

Well, AP!

The fact that you've been moved to respond with a quote from George Herbert is all the affirmation I need. :-)

Herbert, a mystical artist of the highest order, a Christian who would only settle for the ocean depths of truth -- now that is what I call a compliment, lol.

Thank you!

Loy

Loy Mershimer said...

By the way, speaking of George Herbert, here are the words to one of my favorite songs of all time:

KING OF GLORY, KING OF PEACE

King of glory, King of peace,
I will love thee;
and that love may never cease,
I will move thee.
Thou hast granted my request,
thou hast heard me;
thou didst note my working breast,
thou hast spared me.

Wherefore with my utmost art
I will sing thee,
and the cream of all my heart
I will bring thee.
Though my sins against me cried,
thou didst clear me;
and alone, when they replied,
thou didst hear me.

Seven whole days, not one in seven,
I will praise thee;
in my heart, though not in heaven,
I can raise thee.
Small it is, in this poor sort
to enroll thee:
e'en eternity's too short
to extol thee!


Alleluia!