Last year, my family and I were lucky to get a few days of great weather at Mt. Rainier National Park in the late summer.  On our first morning there, I was the first one up and I decided to go for a short walk and take some pictures in the beautiful early morning light.  It was a calm, beautiful morning as I walked up the trail.  Strains of the Chris Tomlin song, “How Great Is Our God” wove their way through my head as I walked up the trail.

The view of the Paradise Valley opened up below me as I climbed higher and I stopped to take pictures of the Tatoosh mountain range.  However, I also had this strong sense that I should look down at my feet.  I was puzzled.  “At my feet?”  I said to myself.  I looked down at my feet and saw to my amazement, some beautiful little white wildflowers, no more than 5 inches high, right in front of my boots.  I had never seen these types of flowers before.  Still amazed, I sat down on the ground to take some close-up photos of these beautiful little flowers with the very long name – “white flowered sickle-top lousewort.”

On the way back down the trail, I ran into more and more hikers who were beginning their hike up the trail.  At one point, a young woman walked toward me with a smart phone blaring music over its speaker.  It took me a while to recognize the familiar lyrics of another Chris Tomlin song – “Holy is the Lord.”  Those familiar words “the Earth is filled with His glory” seemed more than coincidental at that moment!

After passing the woman, I met a hiker who said there were marmots out.  In a meadow, I saw a marmot munching on lupines.  Further down the trail, I saw another marmot, eating flowers on the trail less than 10 feet away from me.  I stopped.  The marmot seemed startled to see me but it did not try to hide right away.  Our pastors’ sermons had recently focused on St. Francis and animals, so I decided I should talk to the marmot.  Somehow this did not seem like a dumb thing to do.  I gently said in a friendly voice “Hi Marmot!  I don’t want to hurt you.  Stay there, I am so happy to be here watching you and I only want to take your photo.  Just enjoy your breakfast.”  The marmot seemed very satisfied that I wasn’t going to hurt it, and it let me stand there for quite a while as it ate.  Even after some passing hikers and a park ranger scared it into a drainage ditch more than once, each time, the marmot came out again and let me stay there after I reassured it that I would not harm it.

’Thank you Marmot,” I said, “for letting me take your picture this morning.”  I was amazed that with a quiet and gentle heart/intent, I could share some time with this amazing animal.  As I walked downhill to my breakfast, my heart was filled with gratitude to God for the privilege of being totally immersed in a beautiful morning in His creation, and grateful to the marmot for letting us to both share God’s space at that absolutely magical moment in time.