Sweet

Returning from Annual Conference (an ecclesiastical meeting) I drove along a well traveled road that is seeing less traffic because expressways.
On that old route I took in the beauty of deer out pasturing in the fields of alfalfa and soybeans. Some were in packs, a few were alone, a sweet sight was the mother and fawns who were playing.
Along that same road were fresh big round bales of hay and fields of freslhy mown hay. The smell of freshly cut alfalfa is, well to this farm boy, sweet, sweet, sweet.
There were other smells that some people might not describe so pleasantly, but it was earthy, organic matter, life.
The sun was shining bright in the early evening and the trees, cedars, oaks, maples, evergreens - all of which populate the hills of Michigan south of Traverse City, were springing with green, dark vibrant green. It could have been that I had my contacts in, but they seemed greener. CS Lewis describes heaven in his book, The Last Battle, as a place where the splendor of this world is observed to be mostly a shadow of the real essence of real. If these gifts, these pictures and aromas were simply the pretext to heaven, my mind can dare to grasp such a weight of glory.
It was a sweet drive. A divine drive. A drive that makes me sing, Glory be to the Father, and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end, Amen. Amen.