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IMG_5017Everything is stillness this morning as I sit to ponder Psalm 1:1-6. Light is coming to the sky; there are apertures in the cloud cover, just barely lighter than the gray. There is no movement of branches, no stirring in the kitchen or on the road. I wonder if it is a holiday for surely Monday morning traffic should be buzzing by now. I cannot yet see the bronzing trees on the hill or the gold of the not-yet-harvested cornfield behind the house. I know in my bones the passing of the “fruitful” season of apples and take a deep breath as I read of the trees planted “by running streams” that “yield their fruit in due season.” Their leaves are mostly gone – for now – as we prepare for the hibernation of bear and earth and, if we can manage it occasionally, ourselves.

I am feeling the rhythm of the seasons this morning, grateful to live in a region where they are all wildly different in unique beauty. In the same way, I have the certainty of the psalmist who compares people to evergreen trees whose “leaves” never fade, the ones who delight in the law of the Lord. And now the clouds are pink, a car just sped by and a song bird has offered a lovely welcome to the day. It is time for me to move along, surprised that I have been sitting for 45 minutes as the world continued its silent turning. I think of my relatives in Australia as they experience the turning and all those people in between and I give thanks for this day, this life, this amazing mystery…