glowing

My drive to work usually consists of smallish back roads - some residential stretches and some farmland expanses sprinkled together until I reach the booming metropolis that is our campus.
The first part of the drive is through the farms that lie just west of our little neighborhood - there are corn, wheat and bean fields nearby. Today, the corn fields boasted stalks that rose above the hood of my car... but the wheat fields nearly took my breath away.
Normally, one of my absolute favorite summer landscapes is a blue sky, green trees along the horizon, and far-reaching rolling fields of golden wheat. We hit that stage of summer about a month ago, and I loved it. The fields have turned auburn now, and have been harvested, leaving very few stalks that are tall enough to wave in the wind.
However, this morning's summer sun fell on those fields in a way that made them look to be glowing - it was as if they were being lit from underneath. Genesis 1 talks about the "spirit of God hovering over the waters." There wasn't any water today, but it sure looked like the spirit of God was hovering over the wheat fields of mid-Michigan.
I wished for a moment for my camera, but I knew just as quickly that I'd never be able to capture that glow.
Maybe some things are too beautiful to be captured on film.