Sometimes I wish I could see as well as Amiga the cat. I don’t know for sure how much she sees, but she seems able to see in the dark, and that gives her a big advantage over me. Imagine having no need for reading lights, night lights, street lights, flashlights, security lights, or headlights! Yet there are some things to which Amiga seems blind.  

I have never seen Amiga gazing in awe at the golden splendor of a setting sun, nor does she seem entranced by silver stars or a full moon. She walks right past the flower bed, never pausing to admire the delicate petals of the budding roses. She does not notice whether the lawn is mowed and trimmed or the trellis freshly painted. She does take a keen interest in the birds at my backyard feeder, but I do not get the impression that she is admiring their brilliant plumage or marveling at their effortless flight. No, her gaze seems calculating—even savage.  

God has given us humans a special ability to enjoy the beauty of our surroundings. We notice shades in color, symmetry in design, order in arrangements, and delicacy in perfection. Believers enjoy yet another dimension of sight. We see the omnipotent hand of an artistic God in all of nature. We can lift our hearts to the Creator in praise for the wonders we behold on every side—and I wouldn’t trade that privilege for the best night vision in the world.  

Why should the wonders He hath wrought, be lost in silence and forgot? —Isaac Watts 

From Paws on My Porch, by Gary Miller
© 2015 TGS International, PO Box 355, Berlin, Ohio 44610
Used by permission