The God for the trees

I went to the Church of the Woods as part of exploring religion and trees, and certainly found confirmed my sense that trees in a wood are a completely different animal from the mute solitaries we encounter on city streets. Isolating a single tree here is as pointless as it is impossible. But when we went out, in the middle of the service, I find I looked right past them. Rev. Blackmer had suggested we ask "where is God and what is God up to?" as we roamed. I attended first to the breezes rustling overhead, then to the light floating on reefs of leaves at mid-height, then to one of the few visible outcroppings of rock, supporting us all... all inorganic! My thoughts (following my feet) went then to the bouncy loam of a hillside we walked down, aware of the organic world that made and sustained it, alighting finally on some lichen making a 

miniature forest, visible only on bending down for a closer look. Well and good, but... the actual trees? Is God not in them, are they not something God is up to? They're the source of the leaves the wind caressed overhead, which the sunlight danced on in the distance, and the many generations of which cushioned my steps. Indeed my image of rapture is something like the first photo I posted Sunday. Divine?