I readily admit that I tend towards anthropomorphism. I imagine the rocks and the water and the grasses and trees as being kind of human like. Silly, but I do it. To me, they seem like they are all patiently waiting for the inevitable. Everything will cycle back around eventually. Just wait for it. But how long will it take? As I walked along, I wondered if I could learn anything from inanimate objects that knew more about being patient than I can ever hope to know.
The picture above shows the little rivulet of water that now extends from the lake back towards the original path of the river. I wondered how long it would take to once again bring this man made lake to capacity. And I thought about the passage of time and waiting for things to happen. How, as humans, we really can't ever imagine what real waiting must be like. The kind of waiting that involves centuries and millenniums. The kind of waiting that rocks and trees and the earth itself does. The kind of waiting that God must do and must know about; something we can't fathom but that leads to a continuous cycle of renewal and promise.
So, as the days now get longer, and as I wait for time to pass, I'll do the best that I can to be patient. I'll continue to go to the park and wait for the passing of seasons: winter, spring, summer and fall. I'll continue to watch the cycle of life and death that must be all around me there though maybe not visible to my eyes. Through observing nature in all of its seasons, I will continue to watch the renewal that God provides for all living things. And I will try to be patient, just like the trees and rocks around me.