There’s a momentary pause. The thick snow has stopped falling and the Sun is piecing through the evergreens whose branches are throwing snow in the air like confetti and sparkling like fireworks on their way to the ground. For a brief second diamonds fill the air, catching the Sun’s light at just the right time and being put on display when I just so happen to be watching. There’s a calmness, a peace, a quiet stillness outside. The trees all seem to be waiting for something. They are holding as still as they can, trying not to be noticed, like a game of hide-and-seek. Another snow pile falls, giving away their secret. What game are they playing? What are they waiting for? Perhaps their Maker is tapping them on the shoulder so they turn around to find nobody there but the gentle breeze. The clouds have parted again. The rays are blinding. Looking through the window is like looking into a snow globe with large flakes beginning to fall once again from the dark scattered clouds that could no longer contain them. And just for a moment all of life’s worries and cares feel weightless in the deep waters of surrounding beauty.

This is what nature does.

Stop.

Listen.

Watch.

A momentary pause to take in her beauty is momentary pause to take in God.