It’s a beautiful, breezy, late spring day, a gorgeous day for an outdoor concert. I roll into my spot, tilt the chair back, put my feet up and eagerly await the show.

The gust hits our backyard birch first, the tree’s slender branches motioning an easy downbeat. The Instrumentalist breathes and the birch leaves enter with a high, almost crinkly, tone. Next in are the box elder and maples, their substantial voices filling out the middle range with confidence and strength. The music falls and rises, delicate sounds of lilac and weigela infusing texture until the phrase climaxes with the entrance of the majestic roar of spruce. 
Where there is music there will be dance. Bees and butterflies join hummingbirds floating in the air while squirrels and chipmunks alternate pas de deux across the lawn stage. 
The crew are busy, ants dressing the peonies by opening their buds and 4 blackbirds bouncing an apparently ticketless owl from a box seat in the spruces. There are even special effects, as cascades of glittering birch seeds shimmer in the early evening sunlight.
Every day, every hour, the performance changes, wanting only for people to take a moment and watch. This concert is too wonderful to miss; stop, watch, and listen. Revel in the performances of the plants, insects, birds and rodents, and marvel at the beauty of the everyday. 
If these can offer such praise to the Lord of creation, so shall I.