When I went out for a walk this morning, it was strangely quiet except for the occasional caw of a crow in the distance and the gentle dry rustling of the phragmites at the edge of the marsh whenever a slight breeze would whisper through them. As I walked and walked, I noticed that the outer stillness of the morning had become an inner stillness within me, a gap between thoughts, to-do lists, and all the other chatter that usually goes on in the mind. The noticing, of course, became a thought, and the babble came pouring back in.
A small stone from this morning’s walk.
a moment of stillness
in between breaths
before the thought arises
a delicate balance
a brief awakening
on dragonfly wings
free from time
the dragonfly sways
where the fireflies
dance at night
Winter falls silently across the morning,
a blanket of snow stretches over the dreaming earth.
Unmarked paths of white wait in quietude.
My January 3rd small stone, tossed into the river.
I found this difficult to do today, and had many thoughts about giving up. It is almost impossible, it seems to me, to capture in words or photos the beauty of the first big snowfall, when the world is hushed and the snowflakes waltz down from the sky, romancing the earth before covering her in winter’s white and sparkling jewels and clothing.
(Sitting on the edge of the world.)
We sit silently and watch the world around us. This has taken a lifetime to learn. It seems only the old are able to sit next to one another and not say anything and still feel content. The young, brash and impatient, must always break the silence. It is a waste, for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is the great paradox.
~ Nicholas Sparks
I took this photo when we were at the top of Pike’s Peak in Colorado (altitude of 14,115 feet). We were, in some spots, above the clouds that day. I’m not sure what the couple in the photo could see from there as I didn’t walk down that far (and it was quite a distance from where I stood to take the photo). Perhaps they were just enjoying the bird’s eye view of the clouds and/or each other’s company.