Discovery in the Woods

This past summer, while on vacation at a cottage in the Muskokas, we went for a walk in the woods. In the course of our hike, we stumbled upon the remains of small building. It had been dug into the side of a hill, with the entryway framed in wood and stone. We opened the door, and descended a couple of stairs into the dark interior. There we found a few unbroken jars of tomato preserves. We had no idea how long they had been there, or how old the structure was, but it looked quite old. It was obviously a pantry, or a root cellar of some sort.

Now there are two possible explanations for the presence of that root cellar in the woods.

We could propose that, through long eons of time and under the forces of nature, the stone and the wood had gradually assembled themselves into that configuration. The glass jars had been formed by incredible heat produced by volcanic activity acting on nearby sand deposits, and then had been shaped by gravitation to form these perfectly clear containers, which then rolled into this natural shelter. The tomatoes had obviously grown more recently and, after ripening, had fallen off their vines and into the glass jars. We’re still trying to find a theory as to how the glass jars were then sealed with metal lids.

That’s one possible explanation. The root cellar came into existence through a combination of natural forces over a long period of time.

The other explanation is that someone—an intelligent, purposeful being—built the root cellar, grew the tomatoes, canned them, and placed them there.

Which explanation is more plausible?

Why do modern scientists, when confronted with the obvious evidence of design in nature, refuse to consider the possibility that there must have been a Designer?