Blue January Sky

I love living in the Pacific Northwest for multiple reasons. No oppressive heat, very few poisonous animals, good mid-sized cities (except for Portland), and access to almost anything you could need within a few miles of civilization. The biggest reason, however, is the beauty. I love Oregon. There’s always green somewhere. In the summer, everything is lush and bright and green; in the fall, everything is crisp and colorful and sharp; in the winter, everything is chilly and stark and fashionably bare; in the spring, everything is blossoming and clean and new. Some say we only get two seasons (wet, and less wet) but I think we just get mild, pleasant versions of all four. And I absolutely love it.

With that being said, part of the reason I love my college, George Fox University, is the beautiful Oregon campus. Trees everywhere, soft green lawns, cozy college buildings, and the spiraling clocktower in the middle of the Quad. This may only be my second semester, but everything about GFU feels like home. I felt inspired to write this short blog post when I was walking back from class today, feeling and enjoying the chill around me, just kind of mindlessly strolling in the general direction of my dorm. Many people don’t see the beauty in an Oregon winter- we rarely get snow, so it’s usually just bare deciduous trees interspersed with conifers, squishy mud, and freezing air. But as I was walking today, I felt the impulse to look up. When I did, I saw the sky. It was beautiful- a light solid blue spotted with white puffs of cloud. It looked like a sky in the summer, but somehow it was even prettier because of the stark January-ness in the atmosphere. There was something mystical and wonderful about it… and I would have missed it if I didn’t look up.

Did you ever notice that? People don’t look up. They look down at their feet walking on the pavement when they want to avoid eye contact, as I do frequently. They look at their phones to check a text or the time. They will glance around them at the scenery sometimes, at the crowds of people, maybe talking to someone next to or in front of them. Occasionally, they may even quickly look behind. But they don’t look up. No one ever thinks to. It amazes me every time I point out to someone the luminous half moon in an evening sky, or a particular cloud that reminds me of something, or the way the sun comes through the leaves, or a bird flying overhead, how so many of these little things go unnoticed. How much beauty in the world do we miss by never looking up to appreciate the sky, to notice the tops of things that only the birds get to see? To wonder what it would be like to fly? It’s amazing how much of God’s creation goes unseen by distracted human eyes. He made these wonderful things for us, and the least we can do is appreciate them.