Photo by Katherine Hanlon on Unsplash
This morning, doing chores, and it is unusually quiet. Not, un-naturally so, in fact, it’s probably best explained by some scientific observation of nature.
The last three days of cloudless, crystal blue skies and low humidity are followed this morning by a dense cloud cover, thick air, and a misty rain. Undoubtedly, that muffles sounds, much like rugs and drapes and tapestries help absorb the sounds in our homes.
The animals are affected by it, also. The cows lie still in the barnyard, the chickens are subdued. Even JayJay, my large Guernsey bull is quiet. He usually goes out of his way to complain at me, paw dirt, and bellow his displeasure at my farmer fumblings. He usually lets me know I should do better. Yet, this morning, he is more Ferdinand and less Satan. Still, he keeps an eye on me, and I on him, but he seems to be a little more accepting of me today.
What hasn’t changed are the birds. The barnyard is a favorite place for the bluebirds, the jays, the cardinals, and the mockingbirds. The martins fly their fighter-jet patterns. The chirps and tweets are constant. Muffled, yes, but constant.
I can feel the change welling up in me. Coming out of a spiritual desert place into a green, peaceful place. I want to linger here for awhile. Praying it lasts until I can be back in it; praying today’s tasks and chores are easily and quickly dispatched.