I am watching the wind ruffling the leaves of the aspen. As the afternoon heat builds up, the wind swirls up from below into the trees. The heart shaped aspen leaves are light as quicksilver, twirling even in the slightest breeze. I find it quieting, this green afternoon dance when the work in the gardens is over.

This morning my dog insisted on an early walk. He was done sleeping and woke me up with a sharp bark that indicated he needed to go out and check on his turf. It was a beautiful morning, clear cloudless sky, cool air awakening my thoughts and sunlight streaming through the pine trees like golden honey. I silently thanked Rudy for having gotten me up to walk with him. We roused a small covey of quail and startled songbirds which took to the air. Then – a flash of blue caught my eye. It was a mountain bluebird, here but for a moment and then gone again. I always consider the rare sight of a bluebird to be a special l blessing.

At such times, usually unexpected, I’m stopped in my tracks. I can hardly breathe and my heart fills up with an inexplicable awareness of God as close as the cool wind on my skin. Jesus tells us that He will never leave us nor forsake us. The psalms speak of God’s Eye searching us, knowing us even more than the sparrow or bluebird. But so often I forget that He is omnipresent, not just in times of trouble but in all things, at all times. The Presence of God never departs. The Voice of God never stops calling and speaking. It is we who are the departed ones, the ones who forget how close He is to us, who mostly ignore Him until we need grace or mercy.

There are moments of exquisite beauty when God breaks through into the heart. It was the flash of a bluebird this morning. Sometimes it is the precise pattern in a delicate dandelion or complex sunflower head. Sometimes it is the memory of those who loved and are no more. Often it is the Voice of Jesus from Scripture: “Simon, Bar Jonah, do you love me? “ “Fear not.” “Father, forgive them for they know not what they are doing.” “Follow Me. The moment may be something I’ve experienced a hundred times before, except this time it is different because God is revealed in it. It is always so fleeting it makes me stop in wonder. It can’t be recaptured. Though my heart yearns to hang on and not let go, it is even more precious for being ephemeral.

Moments of exquisite beauty whet the desire for God who created mankind for Himself. They make us restless for our Father, the Creator and for Christ who reconciles us to Him. St. Augustine describes the pursuit of the heart so well.
Thou hast created us for Thyself, and our heart is not quiet until it rests in Thee.

When a single purple flower petal falls to the ground like an angel’s wing and suddenly, the heart is electrified, surely it is God speaking a language of imagery I recognize. I cannot help myself. The moment is to acknowledge Him in the finite and infinite. The moment is Love made visible.