Seek

The mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. – Isaiah 55:12b (NRSV) 

I went to Tokyo for the first time recently. Even as a lifelong city kid, I was ready to be intimidated by the crush of 23 million people, the sea of glass and steel unvaried by green growing things.  

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Everywhere, cherry blossoms rained on me. Azaleas blazed as brightly as Moses’s burning bush. Peonies posed like beauty pageant contestants on graves in quiet Buddhist shrines. Pocket parks whispered me within, detouring me from city streets to walk alongside secret creeks for a couple of blocks. One block from Harajuku’s mayhem bloomed a giant park of towering trees, delighted to welcome me and thousands of others—a place where each of us could find solace and solitude. 

Even in the built environment, nature was a Broadway star, impossible to ignore.  

Back home, I visited a friend at golden hour, looking down from the heights to the flats next to San Francisco Bay. Travel had changed my vision. Now instead of the dreariness of buildings, power poles, endless cars, I saw only the trees rising up silent and silver in the mist above them all.  

So many trees! How had I missed the forest for them? It was like the old Magic Eye books, where you have to let your gaze go soft to see the hidden image living within the synthetic pattern.  

These days I’m using a new app called Seek to discover the names of every plant and tree I pass. Not just in parks but in every sidewalk crack, freeway shoulder, empty lot. It’s helping me keep this new second sight.  

Prayer
Wonderful Creator, give us magic eyes to recognize your glory pushing up behind and within all we’ve built. Especially the applauding trees.

About the Author
Molly Baskette is a UCC minister, psychedelic facilitator and author of books about church renewal, parenting, post-traumatic joy and more. Learn more at mollybaskette.com.