Three words came to me today on the way to the top of Kennesaw Mountain: subtlety, grace and endurance. Subtlety of light hinting its way through the green, green trees. Subtlety of gradation in the sky. Subtle power and grace in just being a rock, a fallen tree, a squirrel, a cicada, a mountain that has endured in this same place, before the bloody Civil War battles, and will endure long after my grandchildren's generation.
Les cieux racontent la gloire de Dieu, Et l'etendue celeste annonce l'oeuvre de ses mains. Ps. 19:2