The Outer Fringe

The palm fronds wave lazily, the olive boughs shiver and intermingle. Chirps and whistles and trills fill the garden as little, pale, winged balls flit from billowing eucalyptus to safer grape vine. A trellis suspends the lilac-hued wisteria over the azure rectangular pool under the grey skies. In the distance, a striped ridge of rock forms the horizon and gives a sense of defense and boundary.

Opening the shades to this idyllic scene is a joy to be reveled in, as I praise the Creator of color and eyes, the Designer of sound waves and ears, the Maker of the universe and me.

"And these are but the outer fringe of His works; how faint the whisper we hear of Him! Who then can understand the thunder of his power?"
Job 26:14