As I walked the shores of the lake this morning, I saw God. He came quietly on the mists.rising slowly *from the glassy surface of the Water. I saw His beauty in the silent music of the magnificently choreographec rwaltz of a hundred purple martins.
I heard His voice' as three wild geese wended their way overhead, honking noisily from ftheir vantage point high above the awakening city. I mused how small and petty our incessant hurrying must seem when viewed from above. . . .
I wondered at His playfulness in the cacophony of the little brown ducks taking their morning bath at the water's edge.
I marveled at Hls loveliness in the graceful movements of the timid heron silhouetted against the gathering morning light.
The pageant of praise continued as an undulating parade of migrating birds, like Shive of swarming bees, played whiplash high on the air.
Then I saw His smile in an explosion of light and grandeur as the sun catapulted night into day . . . and my soul was warmed.