Humbling-- in a good way!

This image, I think, was by far the most astonishing example of the capabilities of my new camera.  It was shot mid-afternoon last Wednesday in Fort Worth, and I have to say there was a sort of deep-rooted thrill in my chest when I realized I could see the moon this clearly.

I suspect that thrill is not unlike what the astronauts must feel in orbit, looking back at the earth; I know it's somehow akin to the way I felt years ago, standing on the deck of the Bremerton ferry, on my way to a Cursillo weekend, when we paused to let the USS Admiral Nimitz pass by.

Our ferries are not exactly small; they carry 188 cars and 2000 passengers.  But the Admiral Nimitz -- over a thousand feet long, and capable of carrying 90 fixed-wing planes -- completely dwarfed us; the sailors ranged around her edges and waving at us looked smaller than ants from our perspective.

You would think that such an experience would make us feel small and unimportant -- and, in a way, it does.  But I think the leap my heart gives is not about being humbled, but more about the joy of being in the presence of magnificence. I actually appreciate knowing that the world is considerably larger and more complex than my own sphere of influence -- for some reason, I find that incredibly reassuring...