Lichen World

As I enter the Quaker meeting house on Sunday, I see something that I have never noticed before.

On each side of the stairway leading to the porch is a stone that seems crafted by humans, but what the purpose is remains unclear.

They are not simply large rocks because their sides are smooth and both are  shaped into a square about 12 x 12 x4, with rounded corners.

(I later found out that they had originally held up the two sides of a gate into the Quaker burial ground behind the meeting house. When it was taken down, the stones were moved to be simply decorations.)

But what causes me to look at them closer is what is growing on them.

There are splotches of color (green, yellow, and a tinge of blue) and a lovely green, velvety sheen to the rocks.

And then I think of the very small eco-systems that these stones must have.

Curious,  I go to my computer when I come home and read about lichen and moss and find some remarkable facts.

Lichen represent a symbiotic relationship between a fungus and algae or bacteria.

But what strikes me most about the lichens is their beauty: their bluish-green coloration is lovely.

Moss is a plant and feeds animals, in this case insects barely visible to the human eye.

And then my mind moves from the microcosm to the macrocosm. 

If we could only see beauty of the earth in the same way that I see the beauty of the stones, we would never pollute or foul it.

In this way, nature really is emblematic in the Renaissance sense of being a talking picture teaching a moral lesson. 

And it beggars belief that this small, but intricate system, came about accidentally.

There must be a maker behind this small world.

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