If you had been standing with me at my kitchen sink to witness all this, you would likely have breathed softly, as I did, “My God.” The spectacular perfection of that nest, that tiny tongue, that beak calibrated perfectly to the length of the tubular red flowers from which she sucks nectar and takes away pollen to commit the essential act of copulation for the plant that feeds her – every piece of this thing and all of it, my God. You might be expressing your reverence for the details of a world created in seven days, 4,004 years ago (according to some biblical calculations), by a divine being approximately human in shape. Or you might be revering the details of a world created by a billion years of natural selection acting utterly without fail on every single life-form, one life at a time. For my money the latter is the greatest show on earth, and a church service to end all. I have never understood how anyone could have the slightest trouble blending religious awe with a full comprehension of the workings of life’s creation.
From A Fist in the Eye of God, a wonderful piece by Barbara Kingsolver from her 2002 book Small Wonder: Essays.
Go read the essay.
Thanks to Debby for the link.