Walking down the alley to add a few final bags to the trash bin, I saw the margin needs to be mowed. Walking back, I actually looked at the strip of grass and weeds. There are so many colors of green in the neglected margin, purple green, yellow green, dry grey green, the vivid green of a sprouting oak, the spears of grass, each its own shade.  When I was a child, I would pull one dark green crayon and carelessly jiggle it to show the grass under the important subject:  balloon-headed and stick-armed me.   I thought I was the center of creation, well past the usual time of toddlers.  I missed the little Edens in my back yard.  My stroll down the alley was the second memo from God this week to wonder and give praise for the earth.   Wednesday, I saw an emerald green insect that hung on the wall of Redeemer’s parish hall. Looking closer, it glowed as if its leaf-veined wings were enameled with inner fire.  A canticle of Morning Prayer sings it:   “Oh all ye green things upon the earth, bless ye the Lord, praise him and magnify him forever.”  (BCP. p.48)