Lessons from the hunt #1

I was deer hunting recently. That’s deer hunting, not deer shooting. There’s a difference. Hunting means looking for, shooting implies seeing. But shooting is not the measurement of success for me.

For me, hunting is a celebration of God’s creation.

My friend Peter commented this morning about how well he’s sleeping. He attributes it to “good friends, outdoors, sitting around the fire telling stories and good exercise.”

Food tastes better. Sleep is better. Life lives better.

We wake up early, eat breakfast, and settle into our spots before it begins to get light.

As it gets just a little lighter, I hear the first bird making its unique chirping call. Then one answers back. Two or three more begin.

Then a different species begins calling. Then a third. God seems to have created birds to begin singing at slightly different times in the mornings. Perhaps like a orchestra conductor bringing instrument sections into the music one-by-one.

Daybreak is more than an orchestra of sounds. It’s an amazing light display.

It moves from dark blacks to grays. As the sky lightens, different colors appear.

The first colors this morning were browns and yellows. The forest floor is covered with brown leaves. The floor seemed to glow at first. Then the yellows of the leaves still on trees. Later the greens appeared.

I recall the physics explanation. Red and yellow light at the lower end of the visible spectrum have less energy and are more refracted, or bent, by the atmosphere. So the first light to hit the ground before sun-up is red and yellow — hence the browns and yellows are the first colors I see.

I think God likes the unique colors of the light he has made. He begins each day displaying them one-by-one.

I know God likes uniqueness because of the trees. There are thousands of trees but no two are exactly alike. Sweetgums, elms, pines, oaks. But no two oaks are exact duplicates. Pines are harder to tell apart, but looking closely, they are unique.

I think God likes unique. It gives me confidence in who I am. In who my children are. In my friends at church. In my co-workers.