Soul-settling. Yes, it’s an early Sunday morning on BackPorch and I
can’t help but note the sounds that are, or are not. Deep in the still dusky
woods, a lonely crow calls from the tree tops. Faintly, distantly, I hear an
answer.
The air is clear and cool this morning, a breeze rustles through the
trees, fluffing up the light layer of leaves that have already fallen.The tree tops sway ever so gently as the morning light bathes them in highlight.
Sleepy crickets vibrate quietly—a background sound one barely notices,
yet it’s there.
A tiny wisp of smoke curls lightly from MouseHouse chimney; no doubt
Sir Fivel is tending the morning fire in Walnut Woodstove, setting the pot of
chicory on to brew for his lady-love.
Traffic sounds on the lane are nearly absent this Sunday morning, but
for an occasional rush as a car passes.
A jay calls, cutting the stillness with his alarm, but there are no
birds to warn this morning. The feeders are silent. Most of the migrators have
left already, and the year-rounders are still nestled quietly on this day of rest.
How I miss the early morning songs of joyful praise so characteristic
of spring and early summer, but every season has its sounds, and autumn is the
beginning of the impending silence. It is what it is.
Stillness.
“Be still and know that I am God.”
Psalm 46:10
Yes, my soul, be still.
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