High above the valley, atop a treeless ridge, one glimpses eternity.  The view is vast and endless.  God's creations are exposed to view, and roll on and on until swallowed by distance.

And yet they continue.

The valley, filled with frenetic activity, from this vantage point is perfectly still.  There is no movement.  Distance has stilled the ants and their machines.  Amid this vastness, the ants are insignificant.

And yet for them it was made.

The ants are piled in little hills, and jostle one another.  Between those little piles is open space where the ants have their farms.  Even those are limited, because most of what one sees is more hills and more mountains and more trees.

And, oh, the uncountable trees!

And the peace!  It's palpable.  It's soothing.  It's healing.  It's magnificent.  One envies the jay.  His is the only sound and the only movement.  He has joy, and is unaware, because that's all he's ever known.  God provides for his every need, just as the jay provides for his family.

And thus their lives go on.

Generation after generation.  Do they see the lakes?  Do they appreciate their surroundings?  Do they acknowledge their Creator and their Provider?  Do they recognize the beauty and the grandeur?  Are they myopic?  Are they as blind as the busy ants consumed in their activities?

And yet the peace prevails.

Time and distance and the unfathomable vastness of God's creations provide perspective:          —Man is nothing, and yet for him was all this made.—Oh, foolish man, acknowledge your Creator.  Be grateful for your Provider.  Open your eyes and see.  You see His works, and will even see Him when you realize His closeness, His caring, His concern, and His compassion.  Realize that this world is here for eternity and can be yours for that long if you will but acknowledge and obey.

And yet man remains myopic.

Think of the symmetry and the synchronization and the planning necessary to bring this all about.  There is the sun.  It comes around every day, making trees and food and warmth and existence possible.  And there is the love of the Father for His children.  When the children have grown—if they ever do—they'll finally understand.

Oh, myopic man, wake up.  Grow up.

  “Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God, But only he who sees takes off his shoes; The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.“ —  Elizabeth Barrett Browning