The sun rises every morning. I do not rise every morning, but the variation is due not to my activity, but to my inaction. Now, to put the matter in a popular phrase, it might be true that the sun rises regularly because he never gets tired of rising. His routine might be due, not to a lifelessness, but to a rush of life.
The thing I mean can be seen, for instance, in children, when they find some game or joke that they specially enjoy. A child kicks his legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun, and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon.
It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. (paragraph breaks added)
Source: Orthodoxy, GK Chesterton
Oh, glorious! I love every version of these buds and blossoms with their contrasting stems and leaves. Your camera returns to me the visual acuity of childhood when blossoms’ colours and textures mapped a miniature geography. Somewhat like the bee with its multifaceted view of late-summer nectar sources, I bask in the still-warm sunshine while memorizing the hot, veined colours, hiving them for sustenance over inevitable winter.
Laurna – 🙂 I read recently that the reason time seems to speed up as we get older is that we’ve been there, done that, seen it all before. As a result, we don’t pay attention in the same way, and don’t lay down detailed memories as we go through our days. When we look back, we literally have fewer memories that mark the past year. I don’t know how much there is to this theory/explanation, but it makes some intuitive sense.
An interesting thesis from someone who apparently does not have the Helene-like hurricanes to deal with that pummel this family! I think the losses of attention on my part have something to do with the mud and destruction scattered about in the wake of such events. I should have commented, also, on the beautiful poem about prayer by Mary Oliver. I suppose some of my prayers are the poems, occasionally of the “blue iris” variety. But I notice that the “down in the vacant lot weeds” sorts of prayers are answered just as swiftly. My way also has been marked by gigantic miracles of the sort that allow KK to sing “Why Me, Lord?” Now, there’s a treasure trove to turn to on a dark day!
Laurna – I think the thought about paying attention had to do with “being in the moment” as we say these days. Being overwhelmed by collateral mud/destruction would have its own effect on our memory banks, I’m sure. And sometimes “more” is not “better.”
Something that my eye never saw until recently: A wasp had trapped and was eating a fly.
Tom
Tom – Nature, red in tooth and claw.
Nice photo lesson Isabel!!
Hollyhock?
Jim – Thanks, and yes, I think so.