I lowered my tripod to ground, and pointed my camera lens toward top branches of these living giants. Their pinnacles formed a lofty monument to centuries of natural perfection. If these trees could talk, they would tell tales of forest dating back hundreds of years.

The sky was alive with moving cloud forms. I thought, "Maybe there will be some angel clouds to photograph today." I walked into a small clearing to get a full view of moving clouds. Suddenly I froze in my tracks, amazed at what I saw.

Upon a large boulder was a perfect angel made of snow. She posed graciously with wings spread while I photographed her from several perspectives. Her framed image would make a unique Christmas gift for a friend who collects angels.

I had witnessed again magnificent perfection of nature; its artistic forest patterns are filled with divine symbols. All of creation bares God's signature in ways we can read it.

Like a moment of compelling photographic light, every moment can bring gifts of joy and empowerment. Yet we must attend to them, and choose to see them with new eyes. Awareness allows us to see through eyes of spirit, and understand with heart.

How can we increase our level of awareness to fill our moment-to-moment experiences with more wonder and joy?

It's not because I'm inspired by holidays. I'm simply observing anniversary of Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Each year, around December 10th, I reread that incredible document just to remind myself that as humans, we can all agree on what it means to have basic rights and to be treated fairly. It's an inspiring piece of writing, and it fills my heart with hope--that is, until I remember that we don't seem to be making much progress on goals we set for ourselves 55 years ago.

From time we're very young, we learn that there is a difference between what we mean to do and what actually happens. After a scuffle, your mother asked, "Did you do it on purpose or by accident?" It was sometimes okay to kick your brother in teeth as long as you didn't mean to do it--like, say, if you were reaching a toy for him on top shelf and stepped back wildly on your way down. You were trying to help, you caused pain accidentally, you felt bad about it, so it was excused.

Now that we're adults, are our accidents excused? Do good intentions serve as a sort of "Get out of jail free" card? Not exactly.

Democritus, Greek philosopher and physicist, said: "My enemy is not man who wrongs me, but man who means to wrong me." Tell that to mother of a child killed by a drunk driver. Bad things happen, even when they are completely unintentional and repulsive to perpetrators. Negligent homicide isn't intentional, but results are same as if guilty party carefully planned and carried out his attack.

If we watch news, we see all kinds of examples of good intentions that go terribly wrong. Whether we're talking about results of a new Walmart or a new war, we can't always get what we want, but if we try real hard, we just might find--we screw things up royally. (apologies to Rolling Stones)