October on "my" Dock.

Whenever possible, I swing by "my" dock on Yellowknife Bay, usually in the morning, after I drop my daughter off at pre-school. From the first time I saw this spot, I knew it would be a place of refreshment. I love seeing it in different light and seasons. This morning was so beautiful, surprisingly "balmy" for a mid-October morning (2 degrees Celsius). I stood on the white, frosty boards, rocked gently by the waves that drummed a rhythmic melody under my feet. I was a bit surprised to already see shards of ice creating a small ridge along the shoreline. I arrived in time to see the sun begin it's morning drama of gold and fire. The sky was clear blue except for a bank of cloud at the horizon that was breaking apart along its edges from a breeze. These low, rolling clouds had beautiful, golden-light linings tinged with pink. Whenever the sun broke through, it reflected off the water as though from thousands of small mirrors. It reminded me of an impressionist painting. Nature is so close up here, on one's doorstep. With raw beauty so accessible, I wonder how people can remain untransformed. Beauty is a thing perceived. I wonder if many have been deceived into dulling their senses, or perhaps forced into doing so, because having senses means feeling pain. The Bible tells that we become blind and deaf when we pay homage (focus on, worship) to that which cannot see or hear. I have heard, from people who experienced restoration to God through belief in Jesus Christ, that it was like having their eyes opened; colors sang with new life, the world was brighter. I was 4 when I gave my life to Him; I have been seeing the world in living color for such a long time that I don't remember what it's like not to. I can't help but be an artist.