Quiet, dark, peaceful... These are words to describe those predawn minutes when light begins to penetrate the void of being. Sometimes it can not be darker if you were to close you eyes and sit quietly listening...listening to an almost lack of being. Many times I can hear nothing but my own heart beat, as I sit here in blissful solace. Many people fear the darkness...that emptiness of senses...the uncertain feeling of safety. I fear nothing in darkness, for it is only a time of solitude and relaxation for the soul. You needn’t do a thing, nor reflect a thought...lest for the chance to dream or simply exist in a total lack of anxiety. People cannot understand that they have nothing to fear in darkness...Nothing but for themselves. Is it so hard to understand that they should fear themselves at all hours of the day, or is it simply that they can dwell undeterred within them selves in the quiet abandon of daylight? Do they not understand that they fear what is within....and not what is about? Perhaps it is the same things which keep souls awake throughout the night, when others rest comfortably. Perhaps one day those souls will find the secret of blissful rest and comfort from within...understanding of which I speak so freely.
I see a new day peeking from within the branches....out through the woods and I drink in the beauty of the lake as that same approaching daylight reflects from the water. It is still, motionless...as the light moves across the surface. Unlike the breezes which stir the surface into a rippled palette of moving colors....the light spreads the images reflected from beyond, unmolested...untouched, as the image lightens with the suns arrival. A flock of geese passing over, glide across the untouched surface...and disappear beyond...another miracle of God...this image which appears and pleases, yet never touches.
Early last evening, chilly as it was...I heard spring peepers in the bog beyond the lake. The night before, being a bit warmer...there were perhaps thousands of them singing their mating song and ushering the coming spring, now only five days away. Spring peepers or tree frogs, as they are wrongly referred to, are my favorite sound to wait for each March to April. I have ordained these little rascals as my officials...declaring the arrival of spring, just as most Pennsylvanian’s revere that February 2 rodent as their personal weather forecaster.
At least my little friends know when to signal that spring has arrived. There is no doubt about their salutation... From the time they announce the arrival of spring, it only gets better and better. (Unlike Phillip D. Rodent from Punxsutawney, PA.)
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