Good morning to you, September Sunday. A day of rest if you welcome this day as the Lord’s Day. That’s today. Can you hear the silence? Loud silence. There is a stillness right now, a hesitation in the movement of the day before its routine and flow begin once again. Thankfully it is not my breath that I can see as I take in deep breaths and exhale. I am not ready for that one yet. It will come soon enough for sure.
I am outside sitting on my deck and looking out into the early morning dawn. A dawn that is just beginning to break, filtering its way through and up into the empty spaces of the woods, baring a wakefulness. It is like a permission of sorts, allowing the silhouette and outlines of the trees to discard the dark, unveiling the shapes and forms of natural life. Where the woods was once dark in blackness, now taking on clarity and definition. Up and at ’em. Oh don’t you love the moments of quiet before the rooster crows!!
Oh my. I can see the sun’s light coming into my kitchen window right now, casting its glittery shine on part of the screen. Yeah sun, you do not have to remind me that I also see cobwebs and a dirty screen. Sometimes when the light comes in, it uncovers work. Better put that on my ‘honey do’ list today…clean screens and windows. I have to be careful of the windows being too clean (not kidding here) as I have had some birds hitting my window pane (four this summer), knocking themselves out for a bit or worse, not survive (two of them). Not even after, I carefully put them in a box, covered in darkness – I googled it.
So this morning. The only sounds right now are the annoyingly large crows cawing away in the distance. How do I know they are crows? I just do. And who knows where they are at this moment because here just above the harbour area, the echos of sounds reverberate, masking their exact whereabouts. However, soon I will have a clangour of babbling as the birds, not just crows, seem to gravitate to forested areas, creating a symphony of racket amongst the branches high above. Talk about a downer.
Don’t get me wrong I really like birds, especially their beautiful colours and uniqueness. Not saying crows are beautiful mind you, but hey, they are part of God’s creation. Anyway, there is something about the mystery of how birds do birds. Being able to fly. Spreading their wings and up up and away. Or landing on a twig or branch, their body weight cannot be more than what? Or lining up on the overhead hydro wires…I have to chuckle at them. It reminds me of the game Broken Telephone. You know when you whisper in someone’s ear and they tell the next who tell the next and so on. Then they have to say what was said. And get it WRONG. But the most fascinating bird for me is watching a hummingbird…the speed of its wing flaps. Gracefully awesome.
Not sure what kind of day it is going to be but it looks promising. I am glad I cut the lawn yesterday as this is supposed to be a day of rest. I waited until the late afternoon to cut the grass, as the sun’s rays are not as intense and hence, do not dry the grass as fast as before. My lawn mower can be finicky at the best of times. For some reason it works best when I tip it over on its side (not sure if I am supposed to) and scrape the remnants of the cuttings baked to its underneath from last lawn cut, and then put it back upright again. It starts. What is that all about??
So it’s quiet. The pause in the day where most things are shut down, turned off, taking a break. That is the gift of the quiet. Just allowing the day to come in slowly. Have you ever heard of the phrase love comes softly? I think it is a Christian movie about life in pioneer times. But it’s that phrase which speaks to me about something coming softly. Like love, it can catch you off guard but you feel it deep within. Just like allowing the quiet to come in softly. To be still.
Be still. Does not happen alot? I often wonder about Jesus going into the desert to pray. He got it way back when. The breathing space to breath, to standstill. Is this how he felt when he went in the quiet and silence? I feel the calming strength of creation, God’s creation as I sit here in prayerful reflection. Not easy to do when your mind gets caught up in the distraction and noise of life lived.
So in gratitude I spread my arms out wide (no one is watching) and spin slowly on my deck in the coolness of the morn. For you Sunday at daybreak, the beginning of the Lord’s Day, are embracing me, wrapping me up in thanksgiving and prayer. Not let me take for granted all that has been given and received. I whisper now Amen.
Blessings today in its quiet.
Let us think of those who are in need of our prayers in their time of need.