There is a lot about place which shapes us and our thinking about beauty and significance.
I grew up in hills and hollers in West Virginia along the Ohio River. George Washington surveyed the local area as a young man; my elementary school was named for him. I feel very much at home in the woods on ancient mountains.
Today I live in a city along the Gulf Coast of Florida adjacent to a federally-protected forest. The high point of the city is 41 feet above sea level, not counting a few tall buildings. The quartz sand we live on was deposited here over a million years, eroding down from the Appalachians.
This forest isn’t dramatic, though the sunrises and clouds can be stunning. Live oaks, scrub pines, palmettoes, a few wild magnolias, abundant thorny vines. There are tiny wildflowers, new ones blooming each month for 8 months of the year, and a large variety of mushrooms and lichens. Bird life is abundant, from tiny finches to big herons, osprey, and eagles. Small squirrels and rodents. Armadillos, coyotes, a few black bears, snakes, lizards, turtles, but no deer or rabbits. Ants might be most abundant genus, unless it’s the mosquitoes and gnats. We don’t get hard freezes here. The rhythms are quite different than West Virginia or Iowa.
I’m learning to find beauty in the small things here. It truly is a learning process. Yesterday I saw something new to me and thought, “I’ve walked by this place a hundred times and never noticed this before, though it’s clearly been here a long time.” The gap between looking and seeing remains significant!
While this place is not as old as the Appalachians it is still ancient compared to me. That’s humbling, exciting, and helpful perspective. My life and my work can fit into this place, too.
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The Appalachian Mountains at one time were taller than the Rocky Mountains are now. Part of the Appalachian Mountain chain isn’t even in North America – it’s in Ireland and Scotland. The continental plates split apart. There’s more to this story. The Appalachians were formed in the Southern hemisphere, even further back in time, when the massive continent of Pangea existed.
You and I are the tiniest blip in geological history. James is right to say, “You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” (James 4:14) A piercing thought: I will never be this age again. I’m older every minute, every hour.
Yet we have significance. Our significance is in the context of the ancient and slow-changing earth. I find this comforting and encouraging.