Trading Screens for Streams: A Look at Nature's Rhythms
Psalm 104 feels like a walk through the natural world. It's filled with descriptions of sky and earth, mountains and streams, wild animals and sea creatures. The writer pays close attention to the details: birds making nests, goats on rocky cliffs, the sun and moon marking time.
Reading this, I find myself wondering about the connection between people and nature. Most of us today aren't as directly connected to the land as the writer likely was. Our schedules aren’t tied to sunrise or harvests. For me, a typical day happens indoors, surrounded by screens and artificial light. Yet here is a reminder of rhythms outside my usual frame of reference—seasons changing, animals following their instincts, waters rising and falling.
Complex Creatures and Curious Questions
One line keeps catching my attention: "How many are your works, Lord! In wisdom you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures." (Psalm 104:24)
Setting aside the language of faith, the idea that the world is full of complexity and order feels worth sitting with. There’s a kind of awareness here—an appreciation for the intricate systems at play in the natural world. Whether it's ecosystems balancing themselves or species adapting to their environments, there's something humbling about realizing how much is happening beyond human control.
Leviathan at Play: Embracing the Unknown
The sea takes up a large part of this psalm. It's described as vast and full of life—teeming with creatures we can’t count. The writer even mentions Leviathan, a sea creature playing in the waves. That image feels playful, even a little mysterious. Not everything in the world is meant to be known or understood, it seems. Some things simply exist, outside of human grasp.
I find myself wondering what it means to engage with that sense of mystery. In a world where knowledge is often prized and data is available at our fingertips, it feels unusual to simply observe and accept without explanation. But maybe that’s part of what this psalm points toward: noticing what is, without needing to define it fully.
Pausing for Birds and Breezes
Today, that looks like taking a step outside, even briefly. Watching the wind move through the trees. Noticing birds overhead. Paying attention to the small details that I usually miss. There's something grounding in that, even without framing it as anything more than observation.
Psalm 104 doesn’t ask for conclusions. It offers a description of the world as the writer saw it—full of life, movement, and patterns. Reading it now, it feels like an invitation to slow down and notice a little more closely the world we share.