What is the Face of God?

I went out to the woods yesterday at Carver Park Reserve for a hike with my camera. As I hiked I asked myself,

What is the face of God?

That was my last photo assignment in the online photography class that ended this Sunday. I was late working on the assignment but I had been waiting for the weather to cool off enough that I could take a relatively comfortable long hike in the woods. Though it was cooler than it has been, I was quite hot, thirsty, and sweaty by the end of my hike.

The photo you see at the top of this post is the one I chose to submit for my assignment. It’s not my favorite photo from the day but there is something about the water and all that grows and decays in it that speaks of primordial ooze to me. How did life on earth start? It probably began in water, one of the primary substances of life. In the summertime in Minnesota, the marshes and ponds are like giant petri dishes, cleansing, creating, and recycling life. Without water there would be no life. So I see God’s face in the water today.

If you’re John Muir you want trees to

live among. If you’re Emily, a garden

will do.

Try to find the right place for yourself.

If you can’t find it, at least dream of it.

                                            •

When one is alone and lonely, the body

gladly lingers in the wind or the rain,

or splashes into the cold river, or

pushes through the ice-crusted snow.

Anything that touches.

                                            •

God, or the gods, are invisible, quite

understandable. But holiness is visible,

entirely.

                                            •

Some words will never leave God’s mouth,

no matter how hard you listen.  

                                            •

In all the works of Beethoven, you will

not find a single lie.

                                            •

All important ideas must include the trees,

the mountains, and the rivers.

                                            •

To understand many things you must reach out

of your own condition.

                                            •

For how many years did I wander slowly

through the forest. What wonder and

glory I would have missed had I ever been

in a hurry!

                                            •

Beauty can both shout and whisper, and still

it explains nothing.

                                            •

The point is, you’re you, and that’s for keeps.

 

— Mary Oliver Leaves and Blossoms Along the Way: A Poem

You can define God however you want. For me, God is expressed through the life force that creates our beautiful blue planet. I have often called the woods my cathedral. It is the place I feel awe, joy, gratitude, and reverence for life. I love walking among and beneath tall trees. If I could have magically transported myself to California to photograph the giant sequoia or redwood trees, that would have been my photograph of the face of God. But since I am here in Minnesota, I chose to visit one of the woodland sanctuaries that dot our state.

In many ways all of the photos I made yesterday are photos of the face of God. As God lives in all things.

The trail I chose to hike yesterday was called the Maple Trail and along with tall sugar maple trees I found oak trees, cottonwoods, birch and many others. The tall trees towered over me, even though they are small compared to ancient redwood trees.

I shared the 2-mile trail with no other humans until I was almost at the end of the trail where I saw a single hiker heading out on the trail I was leaving. Birds sang and squirrels chattered and scurried on the ground and up trees when they saw me coming.

There were dragonflies everywhere it seemed, as least along the parts of the trails that were close to water.

I played a lot with camera movement among the trees, trying to express the inexpressible delight I feel among them.

And I gathered into my heart the light that hazed through the tall trees like wisps of gossamer streaming through the leaves.

I also marveled at unexpected art in a small clearing on a hill. It was called chickadee landing and painted several cut-outs of human figures adorned benches that surrounded a bunch of bird feeders in the clearing. Unfortunately the feeders were empty so I could not watch chickadees or any other birds in the clearing. But I loved seeing people of diverse backgrounds on the painted human figures. This was my favorite one.

Occasionally I found gossamer webs on the forest floor. This one gleamed in the dim filtered light and I wondered what creature had created it and what it captured in its complex net (but I didn’t investigate too closely, spiders being one of my least favorite insects).

It was a magical morning and a marvelous hike. How lucky I am to be able to spend my time alone under the trees, hiking and photographing!

How do you see the face of God?

May you walk in beauty.