And I think to myself... What a Wonderful World.

Evenings such as these tend to make my heart swell. They capture my sense of beauty and twist the very strings of my being until they sing, a part of the symphony, a part of the song that's been playing since there was an Entity to transpose it. And the sun has dimly faded over the horizon, and there is gold dust sinking down, swirling down, settling into a shimmering pile of leftover sunlight that will soon be scooped up and hand-spun into a multitude of stars, once the mantle is black and the well-worn periwinkle overhead has matured into a rustic midnight blue, too dark to be clearly defined as the crayon color but close enough to be comparable.

And everything is breathing. I can almost feel it, almost swell with it, but the little distractions get in the way and keep me in reality so that the breathing remains somewhat fascinating because I can't prove it; it's only a theory that my mind loves to be a part of and I sense God's heartbeat in the inhale and exhale. It's evenings like this as I sit on the still-warm brick steps of my front porch that I take time to appreciate the simple, yet complex, concept of living. Oh, how blessed we are to be a part of this God-made, God-born, God-designed life when He made this for us. For me. For me? Wow. I can smell the fresh cut grass, maybe the first cut of the new spring, and the old, rotting pine cones from fall, and the neighbors grilling steak and my dog, panting as he plays street hockey with my brother and Jonathan. Oh, oh, oh! There are older couples walking the block because it is just too pleasant, so enjoyable, because the air is still warm and retains the lingering sense of a sun-kissed afternoon, and it is just too good. Why should we worry when we are so blessed?

I know God is a conservationist. And I don't mean that in a defiling or blasphemous sort of way, but God must love the nature He so carefully and lovingly created. I fully believe He uses it to draw us to Him and reveal His Face and Nature, through this small world He planned. For us. For me. For me? Wow.

The street lamps are coming on, orange with a hint of rose. And my heart keeps singing, and cars keep driving up and down, and birds calls out their harmonized goodnights and there is peace while the breathing slows down to a soft, sleepy rumble.

Life is beautiful. Thank you, Abba. I want to keep writing but I think I'm going to turn on some worship music instead...