Last night, I took a good book out to the pond that is on the campus where our apartment is. There are benches, picnic tables, and landscaping around the pond so the residents can enjoy the outdoors. I reserved one of the benches for myself to enjoy the breeze while the summer air cooled down as the sun sank below the trees. After reading for some time, I closed the book and laid down on the bench.
I just closed my eyes to really take in what I was reading. I opened my eyes as if to see the world anew. I saw lively green leaves flowing back and forth through flexible branches. Just past the leaves, I could see the speckled blue of the sky.
Then, I heard it.
I was too busy using my eyes that my ears got distracted. I un-muted the world. The cicadas were so loud that I don't know how I tuned them out to begin with. With the cicadas, there was a faint chirping of the birds. The leaves flowing movement was being caused by the brisk breeze that whistled while it worked through each strand of branches. The fountain of the pond in the background pattered as it rainbowed in the air and came back down to the greater body of water, all the while the still water softly lapped as it met and kissed the earth on the edges of the pond.
God's symphony is all around us. How often to stop and listen?