Photo credit: My lake, taken by me:)
It was on a crisp December evening that I first encountered her otherworldly howls.
–newly blanketed and bound in ice–
Not only does she sing, she howls and growls and gurgles and whines.
On that December night, this being my first winter living lakeside, she caught me unawares. Those first frigid serenades sounded more like the guttural screams of a Hollywood demon than the reverberations of shifting lake ice.
So, I ran inside for my husband.
My Woodsman, coming from a long line of commercial fisherman, was quite amused by my reaction. What was absolutely amazing to me, was just noise for him and not worth freezing his arse off outside for.
I’ve frozen my arse off a good many nights standing out in the moonlight to give my frozen lake the kind of audience she deserves.
I’m weird like that.
I’ve never grown up and out of collecting rocks at the beach (because they ‘sing’ to me too) or stopping on a hike through the woods to fix my gaze on a particular flower or tree that has caught my eye. All of nature– grasses, rocks, trees, clouds, hills, streams — brings so much joy to my heart that I fear it will burst open with happiness!
I hope Heaven is like those precious moments I find in nature.
No more worrying about the constraints of time and the pressing burden of meeting the expectations of others.
No more fear of the unknown, only patient expectation as we prepare for another joyous discovery.
Maybe this is what Jesus meant when he said:
“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
Matthew 18:3 (NRSV)
Perhaps to continue to live in childlike awe of Creation doesn’t make me a weirdo. Freezing my arse off to catch the tail-end of an ice concert isn’t strange, it’s my rightful duty as a child of God. I’m not odd, I’m blessed!
Feel free to disagree with me, but first–let go of the worry and fear. Then listen intently with childlike expectation, and maybe… you will hear Nature sing for you too:)