It’s a delicious 70 sunny degrees in Philadelphia, and I just drove past construction workers in short-sleeved shirts. An unremarkable sight, you say, but it struck me as quite remarkable today.

Perhaps we are approaching the Evolution thing all wrong. We keep arguing the case for a Designed, rather than Accidental, universe by adducing esoteric facts of biochemistry, which most of us can’t see firsthand. But here is something not remote from anyone’s experience — the happy intersection of your “sweet spot” physical comfort zone and the total possible range of temperatures in the universe.

A thermostat placed on the surface of the sun would register roughly 10,000 degrees Fahrenheit. But that’s nothing. Temperatures in the overall universe range from millions of degrees in the hottest stars to absolute zero (-273 degrees Celsius). The thermal spectrum that allows for life as we know it is 1 or 2 percent of that. How much smaller again is the slice that makes me suddenly look up from my housework and notice how nice the air feels on my skin.

We don’t need to talk about the fact that our planet could not support life if it were as far from the sun as Jupiter or as close as Venus, nor that carbon molecules need 120 to -20 C. We just have to ponder a calibration — and a love — so sensitive that a five degree rise or lowering of temperature makes the difference between me putting on my sweater or leaving it home.

I was conscious of having a choice, this morning, as I walked with Spider through yellow daffodils and forsythia, pink dogwood blooms, a smear of pale green in the treetops, and crocuses arrayed in candy-striper uniforms. I could say to myself: Spring has returned, because that’s what spring does. Or I could say: Spring has returned because God is still keeping his promise to Noah.

I have been praying for eyes to see everything spiritually — that is to say, the way they really are. I don’t think there is much danger of “overdoing” it, as if I will tend to “spiritualize” phenomena that are merely “natural” or “coincidental” occurrences. The danger is more likely in the opposite direction, to miss his signatures in the daily events of life. (I like the parable Anne Lamott tells of the man who drowned waiting for God to save him, refusing all other offers of help. God replied: “Well let’s see, I sent you a jeep, a boat, and a helicopter.”)

Nothing is “automatic.” “The regularities that scientists describe are the regularities of God’s own commitments and actions….Scientists describe the regularities in God’s word governing the world. So-called natural law is really the law of God or word of God, imperfectly and approximately described by human investigators” (Redeeming Science, Dr. Vern Poythress).

“Ask rain from the Lord in the season of the spring rain, for the Lord who makes the storm clouds, and he will give them showers of rain, to everyone the vegetation in the field” (Zechariah 10:1).

The rite of spring. My father has developed, one rock extraction and one hacked weed at a time, a very long and very skinny parcel of land along the railroad tracks behind my house. It’s March and he’s already gearing up to win the woodchuck war this year, as evidenced by the posts and chicken wire rolls I see floating past my kitchen window toward the back yard.

The other war he will have to contend with, not to put it too severely, is with his wife. My mother will point out to him regularly the crass mathematics of the venture — comparing receipts for posts, fencing, quick-dry cement, seeds, peat moss starter cups, 5-10-5 fertilizer, gloves (a couple pair per summer), and of course lots of water, with the estimated value of the harvest of tomatoes, cukes, beans, lettuce, broccoli, and eggplant.

She tells me every year she figures each tomato costs about $5. Not to mention that he gives most of them away to the neighbors — and, by late August, to anyone who won’t throw them back.

As my Dad will be ready for his furry Moby Dick, I will be ready for my Mom. This is because it just occurred to me that there is a different way to look at the garden than as financial asymmetry. I mean, my father doesn’t drink, smoke, or gamble. If he did, these pastimes would cost money. So perhaps we can all have some peace around here this summer by calling his operation a moderately expensive hobby. It’s all the way you look at things. “Seek peace and pursue it” (Proverbs 34:14).

Sure, Thursday marked the beginning of the NCAA basketball tournament, but it was also the first day of spring, a time when a young man’s (and an old man’s—and let’s not leave out women) fancy turns to thoughts of … outdoor activity. That’s right, it’s time to polish up those golf clubs, oil up that fishing reel, pull out the lawn darts and croquet set, drag out the chaise longue … hey, wait a minute, that’s not where I was headed. Anyway, now that spring has sprung, get off that couch, stay away from the computer screen (hold on … that could make our numbers go down), and get active. But before you head out the door, tell us what outdoor sports/activities you’re looking forward to participating in this spring and summer.