And, believe me, it was divine.

The smoke from the fire traveled far, and the normally clear Colorado air was hazy that day. I didn’t think much of it until the sun began to set, and, believe me, it was divine. This picture can’t capture the radiance. It’s funny how the eye can see fuller than the camera, and yet somehow still, we do not see in full.

We can dive deep into the waters of always looking, and still be always missing. This blurry fire-soaked sky with its consuming ball of fury sinking low – this was easy to see. Really, how could you miss it?

But everything isn’t always like that. Just because something is not displayed so overtly beautiful, does not mean that it isn’t stunning nonetheless. Behind-the-veil stunning must be sought out by the hunters with adrenaline-hearts soaked through with the aroma of life. It must be beheld in the inner eye and caught as the breath catches in the throat and the looker renders breathless.

There’s something in it, don’t you think? I think it’s called the breath of life for a reason. When something takes our breath away, what does that speak? Too much for me to hold, too much for me to live sowing and reaping the life of lungs, when there is something so much more worthy of that very breath, that very life. It says surrender, give it back, worship what I cannot comprehend by giving that which I cannot live without.

And, oh, that I would not stop here. That I would not stop ever. That I would always be seeing more, seeing deeper. When you catch just a glimpse of it, you have to catch more. You have to be caught by it, held by it, bowed to it. To live with self bowed low is by far greater than to live with self elevated high.

See through the veil and see through to glory.

 

 

 

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