It’s just plain glee. Mother and young daughter on the ferry watching the sun sink behind these swaddled bands of islands.
The young girl had stopped short, pulling on her mother’s hand by way of saying “see!”
And what other response is there? To “see” like this, is to praise. This worship needs no theological apologetic. And perhaps that’s all worship is. A proper response to the call from away, be it light, shadow, the smile of a lover.
There’s enough mystery in the light, let alone the matter it plays on, to play on your mind for a thousand lifetimes. What’s going on here?
My thought is a faint trace on the surface of mystery. The child attached to her mother knows far more than I. Her knowing has none of these complications.