Ten minutes before sunset on this unseasonably warm February evening.

I decided to spend a few minutes by the lake.  It had been raining all afternoon, so the leaf covered trail was soaked and soft underfoot.  As I approached the bank, I startled a mallard which returned the favor when it took off suddenly from a spot six feet from the water’s edge.

A stiff wind had cleared away most of the clouds and was still howling through the trees by the lake.  Standing next to the water, I took in the beauty.  Cypress knees close to the bank.  Large cypress trees out in the water.  The lower half of the trunks looked black.  But the setting sun was still illuminating the top half of the trees with what appeared to be pink and orange spotlights.  The reflection off the water, gorgeous.

Sometimes, despite the beauty all around, I close my eyes and listen.  The sound of birds chirping, geese honking, bullfrogs croaking.  It can be like a symphony at times.  But today there was the roar of the wind and a leaf blower working hard and making work noises amplified by the water.  A car in the distance revved and made it sound like a race was about to start.  

I realized that sight would be more gratifying than sound today and opened my eyes.  Still nothing but stark winter-style grays and browns.  But beauty all around.  I thought about our world.  It’s an amazing, beautiful, complex planet we’ve been assigned to.  But it can be tough at times to recognize the beauty and richness of it all.  It seems buried under dead leaves and compost.  The symphony is drowned out by leaf blowers and engine noise. 

But it’s still there.  It may be hard to see now but will be obvious in a couple of months when everything is blooming.  The gray and brown compost will sink into the forest floor and feed the greens and reds and yellows and pinks as everything gorgeous comes back to the surface for another art show.

I want that for our world too.  Buried under fear and animosity.  Under a thick layer of selfishness and divisiveness.  A garden full of beautiful people who desperately want to bloom and impress and even stun in the best way.  An orchestra is warming up.  The greatest musicians ever assembled, preparing to play the most beautiful concert imaginable.  It will be the best we’ve ever heard if we can turn down the noise.   

Spring is coming soon.  I choose to be optimistic.  Suppose a whole bunch of us decide to offer a little bit of grace in whatever space we occupy.  We ignore the blowers and wind noise.  We listen for the music.  We’ll still smell the compost but we’ll search for the new growth.  The result will be…. breathtaking.