Then, while the devout soul was baffled and astray through its own feebleness, it caught from the prophet’s voice this scale of comparison for God, admirably expressed, “By the greatness of His works and the beauty of the things that He has made the Creator of worlds is rightly discerned.” The Creator of great things is supreme in greatness, of beautiful things, in beauty. Since his work transcends our thoughts, all thought must be transcended by the Maker. Thus heaven and air and earth and seas are beautiful: beautiful also is the whole universe, as the Greeks agree, who from its beautiful ordering call it cosmos, that is, order. Our mind can estimate this beauty of the universe by a natural instinct— an instinct we see in certain birds and animals whose voices we cannot understand, yet whose language is clear to each other. Since all speech expresses thought, a meaning apparent to them lies in these voices. Must not the Lord of this universal beauty be recognised as Himself most beautiful amid all the beauty that surrounds Him? For though the splendour of His eternal glory overtax our mind’s best powers, it cannot fail to see that He is beautiful. We must in truth confess that God is most beautiful, and that with a beauty which, though it transcend our comprehension, forces itself upon our perception (Saint Hilary of Poitiers, Doctor of the Church, On the Trinity I:7).
Image of deep red autumn leaves, taken by me. I think they are beautiful, but as St. Hilary mentions, only a reflection of the supreme beauty of the Creator.