At Emery House, our rural monastery, numerous windows invite looking out at the meadow and fields, the vegetation and animals. Part of the glory of rural spaces is the view. They invite looking and walking or—as I did last week—snow shoeing, exploring the expansive, wondering at beauty. They invite gazing up at the sky, at clouds and birds swirling, and then stars twinkling. Expansive views, as too with the ocean, give perspective, reminding us there is so much more.
Expansive views speak like the prophet Isaiah, chiding and reminding us of the truth: “Have you not known? Have you not heard? Have it not been told you from the beginning? [God] is the one who sits above the circle of the earth, and its inhabitants, [we] are like grasshoppers.”