com·mu·nion (n): a close relationship with someone or something; an act or instance of sharing; intimate fellowship or rapport.
I was not even planning on being at church today. I was supposed to be shooting some family photos for a friend. They must cancel at the last minute; I switch gears back to my typical Sunday morning routine. I soon find myself ready for church with plenty of time to spare. And the sun is shining. And the sky is
so blue. And it's +3C outside. So I grab my camera and head for
one of my favourite spots to capture the sunny Edmonton skyline behind the snow-covered River Valley. I know from experience that this view of downtown is best in the mornings.
Alas, I overestimated the winter sunshine. The buildings were perfectly alight, while the snow-blanketed foreground was still asleep in the dark shadow of the hill behind me. over which the sun had not yet risen. Apparently, this view is best in the mornings that are
not within a week of the winter solstice.
Nevertheless, the school where our church meets also backs onto field in pretty much every direction. A morning winter landscape was not out of the question just yet.
By the time I parked in the church (school) parking lot, it was 10:22. Communion would start at 10:30. After a bit of internal wrestling between my punctual left brain and my creative right brain, I gave myself permission to explore the area until as late as 11:00, which is when the church service actually started. It is often the case that I find myself humbled by some aspect of a nature landscape; the photography simply becomes an extension of worship.
This morning, I was caught by the way the sun was shining behind the elm trees, and after a few minutes, ended up with this picture.
There is fellowship I feel when I am out taking photos in God's creation.
There is an intimate joining of two* to create something new.
There is Light that overtakes shadow.
Communion.
* Look closely. There are actually two trees in this image.
