Darwin was sure that even those spectacles of nature that overwhelm us by their beauty, from the peacock's tail to the fragrance of an English rose, serve not man's purpose but their own, which is survival and reproducibility.  If anything in nature could be found that had been "created for beauty in the eyes of man" rather than the good of its possessor, it would be "absolutely fatal" to his theory.  In other words, maple leaves in autumn do not  suddenly transform into stained glass pendants, illuminated by a setting sun, in order to satisfy a human longing for beauty.  Their scarlet, ochre, and golden colors emerge as chlorophyll production shuts down, in preparation for sacrificing the leaves that are vulnerable to winter cold, and ensuring the survival of the tree.  but he tree survives, while our vision is ravished.  The peacock's display attracts a hen, and it nourishes the human eye.  the flower's fragrance entices a pollinator, but it also intoxicates the gardener.  In the "while," in that "and," in that "but it also," we find the giftedness of life.

Therein lies the most telling sign of a vast superabundance.  Nature's purposes and God's purposes are not in competition but work in tandem.  If the first works by blind necessity, the second works by generosity.  And in recognizing the giftedness, we turn from appreciation to gratitude; from admiration for the world's efficiency and order, to love of its beauty and grandeur.

Terryl & Fiona Givens, The God Who Weeps, pg. 36