In an old city

                     
You can find brick and metal and Spanish moss mingling on the same street.

You can find shapes that speak to you. You say to the unknown maker, " I know you."

In your minds eye, you see him- fifty, sixty years ago or more, seated at a drafting board, crisp white shirt, high wooden stool, the tools of the trade, pencils and rule, triangles and  templates surround him.

He plays with shapes-drawing, measuring, comparing, pondering a simple thing, this rail.

And he finds it-this lovely combination of angles and circles and cat's eye.

It is a good day's work.

Truly, this is what it must mean to be at play in the fields of the Lord.